Clarksville, Bicycling, and God

A year or so ago, I pedaled around Sun City in Georgetown, Texas for my health. In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have gone quite so far the day after donating two pints of blood. Also, if I had it to do over again, I would have eaten breakfast first or at least had some orange juice. I thought about all this while parked on the side of the road trying to decide if I should call 911 or just throw up. After some deep breaths, staying close to the flower garden at the woodworking shop, I managed to get past the nausea. I had already thought of a way to hold on to the branch of a tree for support if needed. But soon, I felt better and was back on the bike heading for home. 

Perhaps I was delirious, but as I rode the rest of the way (mostly downhill, by the way), I had vivid memories of bike riding as a kid. I remember sneaking off when I lived near Clarksville in Austin, so I couldn't have been more than nine years old. My friend, Bobby Bayer, went with me. We told our parents we were just going to see someone a few blocks away and we ended up in deep South Austin, near the Broken Spoke area. I felt terribly guilty for lying to my mother. But not guilty enough to keep me from repeating the trip again and again.

Those memories and reminders of the guilt I felt, made me think about Brian, the male protagonist in Where Love Once Lived. Don't forget I said I may have been delirious at the time all this was going through my head.

In the novel, Brian had been brought up in a Christian family and attended church every Sunday. What's more, he loved to go to church and continued to do so while he was away from his California home attending the University of Texas. Then, he commits a sin and, even though he knows better, the guilt he feels is so strong he believes he is being punished by God. His punishment is to be in a loveless marriage.

He drops out of church for the next thirty years. This is all leading up to my wanting to tell you this is not a biographical story. It didn't happen to me. I was brought up in a Christian home and my life revolved around the church. I still have friends I met at church and we still get together frequently. I'll tell you more about the Combine as we go. I continued to be involved in church in college and while in the marines. After marriage and kids there were times when I wasn't involved as much as I should have been, but that didn't last long. I may tell you about that period of my life someday, if I'm ever delirious again.

How about you? When did God become a major part of your life? Have you ever dropped out? What brought you back?

Christian Bookmobile Novels

Copyright 2013 Sidney W. Frost

Many years ago, while a student at the University of Texas, my friend Rollo Newsom helped me get a job as a bookmobile driver at the Austin Public Library. Although I was assigned to work with several librarians, one of my favorites, Jean Siedo, was a lot like Liz in Where Love Once Lived. Or, should I say Liz is a lot like Jean? Both did more for the patrons than a librarian was expected to do.

I started writing a novel about my experiences on the bookmobile in the style of Suds in Your Eye by Mary Lasswell, but quickly learned I didn't know how.

Much later, after a number of writing classes, I started writing Where Love Once Lived. It was to be a Christian novel along the lines of Jan Karon's Mitford Series. I saw a chance to use the bookmobile to make the locale in my book smaller, like the fictional town of Mitford, and more manageable than Austin, Texas. As it turned out, one third of the scenes take place on the bookmobile.

In The Vengeance Squad, Liz, the bookmobile librarian in Where Love Once Lived is now the director of library services. When Chris and Tex's van is damaged by gunfire in El Paso, Liz offers them the use of Brian's bookmobile for a trip to Galveston. It is wheelchair ready for Tex and has an Internet connection for Chris.

You'll have to read the book to find out why, but the bookmobile sits unused in a parking lot in Galveston while Chris and Tex are in jail. Liz travels by bus to Galveston to bail them out. When they learn the killers are in Houston, Chris tries to get Liz to fly home, but she insists on going with them. So the bookmobile is back in action, with Liz aboard. Luckily it's not damaged this time.

In Love Lives On, though, the bookmobile is nearly destroyed. I can't tell you how without spoiling the story for you.

In The Vengeance Squad Goes to England, I'm not sure what I'm going to do about the bookmobile. It would be too expensive to ship it to London to help Liz, Chris, and Tex track down an international thief. However, I see on the Internet that bookmobiles are more popular in England than in the states. So, we should be able to find one to use while there.

At the end of Love Lives On, Karen and Brian talk about moving to Sun City in Georgetown, Texas and taking the bookmobile with them.

Let me know what you think about this use of bookmobiles. 

Bookmobile Memories

Recently, while rummaging through some old files, I ran across this letter to the editor in the June 17, 1998 issue of the Austin American-Statesman:

The June 12 article about bookmobiles by Mike Cox brought back some wonderful memories of when I worked as a part-time driver in the early 1960s while attending UT. We also were responsible for stocking books, checking out books, keeping the generator going for light and air conditioning that sometimes worked and cleaning up.

We went to schools, retirement homes and several small towns and communities outside the city limits. We set up shop at locations where branch libraries were eventually built.

The librarian I worked with mostly, Jean Siedo, made the job a pleasure. She knew the regulars on our route and selected books from the main library stacks for them. She delivered books to the rooms of some of those who were not physically able to come to the bookmobile. She treated everyone with respect, regardless of age, race or economic situation. She encouraged and counseled when needed. A few times I saw her give food and money to children who had little. I'm sure that was not part of her job description, but I respected her for everything she did.

Sometimes I wish we still had bookmobiles.

Sid Frost

I had forgotten about that letter to the editor. I wish I had reviewed it before I started writing Where Love Once Lived. If I had, I could have added more details about how my character helped others to the point where she was surprised with a special gift from her patrons. Also, I may have used a different name for the character. I used Liz Siedo, and I wouldn't want anyone to think the fictional character was really the live person Jean Siedo. Even though their actions to their patrons were similar, I made up the rest.

Have you met someone like Jean Siedo who impressed you the way she did me?

Yankee, Go Home

While searching through some old files, I found this letter I wrote to the editor of the Austin American-Statesman. The tear sheet didn't show the date, but based on my age and the reference to a May 8 news item, it had to be 1981. Here is what I wrote:

As a 46-year-old native of Austin, I would like to apologize to Mr. and Mrs. James Michener for the actions of two Austin drivers. According to the May 8 Houston Chronicle, James Michener and his wife were told to go home (referring to their Pennsylvania car tags) on two separate occasions while driving in Austin.

We used to have a slogan here, "Austin, the friendly city." I wonder what happened to it?

Sid Frost

Reading this now, nearly 30 years later, I wonder if the reason the Micheners were told to leave town might be because of Mrs. Michener's race. In Where Love Once Lived I included a marriage between a young couple, one black and one white, and how this marriage affects their parents. I have no first-hand information about mixed marriages, but I've always had an interest in equality and what it would be like if race didn't matter.

How about you? Do you think we'll ever have racial equality in this country?

Texas State Capitol Memories

Texas State Capitol
Austin, Texas

A novel is fiction. It's not true. Pure imagination. Right? Well, yes, but... I suspect every novel contains some little something from the author's past. Where Love Once Lived is no exception. While I didn't make the same mistakes Brian did, there are events in my life I wish hadn't happened. But I trust God lead me to where I am today.

In the following excerpt, I describe a scene at the Texas state capitol that I had with my mother and dad and sisters when I was a child. Photos reminded me of the event for years after it happened. My dad tricked me into drinking the sulfur tasting water that day cementing the memory forever. I also remember a time when I wondered if people were staring at me and a fellow marine who happened to be black as we traveled from California to Texas.

When we reached my parent's house in Austin, I was concerned about their reaction since, as far as I knew, Bill would be the first black person in our home. However, he was accepted graciously. My dad even drove us the rest of the way to Houston, saying we were probably too tired to drive further.

I tied both of these incidents into the book.

In this excerpt, Brian had asked to meet with Mr. McCullough, the 78-year-old father of Brian's best friend Phil, because Brian wanted advice on being close to God. You'll have to read the book to find out more. I only included enough here to describe the setting.

“You know,” Mr. McCullough said as he and Brian walked through the capitol grounds, “a few years back, ever’one would be staring at us.”

Brian was six foot two, and Phil’s dad was five two or three at the most. Mr. McCullough had just gotten off work at the Driskill and still had on his white shirt and bowtie. Brian wore shorts and Birkenstocks. Still, Brian knew Mr. McCullough was talking about race, not stature or clothing. Mr. McCullough was from a time in history Brian could never fully understand, but he’d read about how blacks suffered. It was a time of segregation.

Mr. McCullough looked around. “When I was jus’ a kid, nine or ten I’d say, my parents brought me here.” He motioned toward the spot where they sat. “My daddy told me to drink from a sulfur fountain that was here. Said it’d be good for me and make me healthy. But there was a problem. Back then, you see, we had separate drinking fountains. One marked ‘white’ and one marked ‘colored.’”

He paused, but Brian waited for him to continue. “There was only one sulfur fountain and it wasn’t marked one way or ‘nother, colored or white.” He laughed. “Didn’t matter. We sneaked a sip when no one was about. Only once, though.” He shook his head and made a face. “Terrible stuff. Smelled like rotten eggs.”

See: http://sidneywfrost.com/capitol.htm for photos of the area where Brian and Mr. McCullough may have been.

I would love to hear from you. Do you have family memories about visiting places like the state capitol? What caused the memory to stick in your mind? Have you experienced racial segregation? Have you ever felt people were staring at you because you did something out of the norm? Please comment below or email me: sidfrost@suddenlink.net.

Moving to South Austin

In Where Love Once Lived, one character lives in the Clarksville area of Austin, Texas. There are references to my own experience living next to the neighborhood that was restricted to blacks only back when I was there. I lived on a white street, but our backyard was adjacent to the backyard of a black family. I don't remember anything about the parents of that family, but I remember talking to the children. We would often meet at the wire fence and stare at each for a while until we finally got into a normal childhood conversation. I'm not sure how old I was, but since my family moved from there in 1946, I had to be about nine years old.

World War II had ended and the economy was improving. We moved to a nice neighborhood with a modern house on Josephine Street south of the Colorado River. South Austin seemed far away then. I bought my girlfriend Lajuana Jolly a necklace and told her goodbye. I thought I'd never see her again, but we met up again when we got to the one white high school in town. However, the spark was never reignited. We had grown apart.

After the move, we only ventured north of the river to go downtown where Dad worked or to see a movie. There was one movie theater in South Austin, but it was way over on South Congress Avenue. Checking Google Maps today, I see that it was only 2.3 miles from where we lived at West 9 1/2 Street to the South Austin address on Josephine Street. Today, I regularly walk further than that for exercise.

The nearest grocery store to the Josephine house was on Kinney Avenue and it was the size of a current day two-car garage. Maybe smaller. Mother would send me to the store nearly every day to get groceries. We had a charge account there. The grocer would give me what ever was on the shopping list and then Dad would go in on Saturday to pay for the week's purchases. I would often sneak in a candy bar that wasn't on the list so I didn't mind doing the shopping.

One day, a neighborhood friend went with me and he showed me a shortcut to the grocery store through a wooded area. Right in the middle of the forest he stopped and pulled out a knife. I didn't know what was going on and thought I better get out of there. But before I could move, he grabbed a piece of dried grapevine and cut off a few inches of it, stuck it in his mouth and lit the other end just like adults did with cigarettes. He took a few puffs, coughed, and passed it to me. I tried it and started taking that shortcut every time I went to the store

Other memories from the time I lived at the Josephine house include the day the house caught on fire, renting out my room, learning to drive. I'll write about these adventures and others later.

State Confederate Home in Austin

In Where Love Once Lived, 78-year old George McCullough is telling about a time when the parents of a white boy he'd been playing with told their son not to have anything to do with George anymore because he was black.

“After that, we started meetin’ over at the ol’ Confed’rate Soldiers’ Home.” He turned to Brian. “Did Cindy show you where it use’ to be? Down at the end of Nine and a Half Street? We hunted birds and squirrels with our slingshots and sneaked around trying to find an old Confed’rate soldier. Never did.” He laughed. “That white family moved away, and I never saw that kid again. Bobby. That was his name. I’d forgotten that. Isn’t it funny how names can pop into your head after decades of not thinkin’ about them?”

George McCullough is a fictional character, but in real life, I lived on Nine and a Half Street and sneaked into the grounds of the old Confederate Soldier's Home with my big sister or next door neighbor. I remember a wooded pathway from the end of our street that led to facility. It was as if the denseness of the forest would protect those inside. As I remember it, we were afraid to get very close to where the old soldiers might be, but I do remember seeing a large brick building.

The Online Handbook of Texas says the Texas Confederate Home opened in 1886. The complex on twenty-six acres of land on West Sixth Street had several buildings, including a large administration building and living quarters, a brick hospital, and private cottages. The last Confederate veteran died in 1934 at the age of 108, before I was born. After that, the facility was home to Spanish American and World War I veterans and their spouses as well as "senile" mental patients. The area was razed in 1970 and is now used for University of Texas student housing.

The old Confederate Home made quite an impression on me as a child, and now it's gone. I think that's why I included it in the book. Do you have places like that from your past? You may want to write something about it before it's lost forever.

Growing Up White Next to a Black Neighborhood

That's me in the middle

The area of Austin called Clarksville is different than it was when I was born December 6, 1936. At that time, and up until the time we moved to South Austin in 1945, the former slave neighborhood was located between West 10th and Waterston Avenue with West Lynn Street on the east extending west to the railroad tracks that are now in the middle of MoPac.

It's hard for my children and grandchildren to understand that time in Austin's history when schools and neighborhoods were segregated by race. Only blacks lived in the area called Clarksville and the children didn't go to Mathews Elementary where my sister and I went.

My family lived in four different houses just outside the black neighborhood. At one house our backyard was up against a black family's backyard. That's where we lived when I was between five and nine, and I remember talking to some kids over that fence there often, or until my parents told me not to. Since most other blacks lived east of Austin, living where we did gave me an opportunity many white kids didn't have. I got to know some of my black neighbors, even though I had to keep it a secret from my parents.

I grew up in a segregated town, not really understanding why, and it wasn't until I was in college in 1954 that blacks in Austin began to be reluctantly accepted in some places. I left Austin in 1956 to join the marines. One of my friends was a black private from Houston. In California, we could go to restaurants together and the beach and just about anywhere we wanted. My friend rode back to Texas with me once and by the time we got to Austin, without discussing it, we started getting our food to go.

Perhaps due to my early experience growing up in Clarksville, I've always believed in equality of the races. I included a character in my novel, Where Love Once Lived, who is about my age and is black. I gave him my experiences, from the other side of the fence, however. Several scenes take place in the neighborhood, including memories of the neighborhood, Mathews School, the Confederate home, and what it was like to live in a segregated area. There is also an interracial marriage in the book.