Grandma Bea- The original OG

 Grandma Bea was born in 1908. She had 13 siblings by the time the youngest and last was born. Her family were bootleggers. Mr. Davis running the main business and Ms. Davis, being part Cherokee in a point in history where this nation of people had been wiped out by US militia, ran the household. I believe she said that she saw one of her brothers shoot and kill another brother. I believe she spoke of going into Travelers Rest area to get water to make moonshine. Their family estate stayed in the family until recent history. 

Grandma Bea worked in a hotel as a cleaner in her early early 20s, but soon quit to start selling bootleg liquor from her house. She became a mainstay and matriarch in the neighborhood that she chose to lay roots in with her husband, Mr. Barksdale, in Greenville SC. Despite being high toned and able to probably pass for white like her sister did, she stayed and worked in a black neighborhood. 

Grandma Bea became known for her liquor house. Many would crowd into her tiny home to partake. Fights broke out. Gunshots and knives were thrown in drunken stupors. She even got struck down by a police officer in her own front yard. But she maintained, even after the death of her husband early in their marriage (I nor my mother never met the man, nor did she mention him much). She gained life long family during these times, people that would have an influence not only on my mother's upbringing, but my and my sister's lives. She created a community around her and supported that community. 

Grandma Bea took out life insurance policies on people so that they could be buried with respect. She took in my mom, who was her great aunt, and raised her as her own, therefore, claiming my sister and I as her grandchildren. She loaned money for my Uncle Giggie to start his club. She help put the downpayment on my folks first home. She never had a line of credit that she didn't pay off immediately. The only person she voted for was Kennedy. She loved Elvis. She lived simply. She rented up until she came to stay with us in her older age. 

She cursed and smoked like a sailor. She laughed a lot. She cursed out my mom if she tried to discipline us in front of her. She always had a visitor in her home, someone that was you didn't see often, but were passing through to see her. She always had some good advice and a good story. She was kind. I like to believe I was her favorite. She certainly was mine. 

I wrote this short history of my Grandma Bea in hopes of telling it to a distant cousin of mine that found me on 23 and Me. She wanted to know more about my Grandma Bea. The only way I was going to tell it was verbally. I don't know why, but writing out a short basic message about the cornerstone of my family didn't seem to do her justice. And honestly, for the Black people I know, knowing anything about your family history past 1950 is a treasure not to be taken lightly and given away. A lot of people of color, specifically Black people in the US, have had their histories robbed from them through the diaspora of slavery, reconstruction, Jim-crow, and prison pipeline systems keep robbing people of color of their histories. 

But anyway, after being bothered for weeks about this distant cousin not writing back about wanting to know more about our shared relative, I decided that my Grandma Bea needs to be remembered.  She needed to be documented just like all the people and loved ones of our past that won't be remembered outside of their obituaries. They make up who we are and help us find our core true selves in the process. I think of her often, even more so as of late, trying to pull strength from different memories in life. 

I expected this distant relative to be anxiously awaiting my reply. I imagined an initial awkward video chat. Short introductions to break the ice. But I hoped, with our vastly different lives, that we would find some commonality through our shared ancestor of Bea Davis. But they already have a history that shows and represents them, one that is easy to latch yourself to if you are white with the privileged sway of money and capital. 

I still have many feelings around why I am bothered that this unprovoked connection from a distant cousin. Maybe there isn't the same sense of urgency to know the truth, to have some kind of piece of your past to help guide out your future. Either way, I sat on this short history of my Grandma Bea for long enough and her story, her life, is very important to me and has shaped who I am today. I am grateful to her and her influence over our family for over 3 generations.