Honoring a Hometown Hero

I don’t know all the rules and don’t understand every call, nevertheless, football is my all-time favorite sport to watch. A new season is just around the corner, and while I love my Florida Gators, I’ll reluctantly confess that most of my attention these days is on the Miami Hurricanes.


Number 57, Allen Bailey, is the reason.

The defensive lineman is a 2006 graduate of McIntosh County Academy. He’ll start his final season with the Canes this fall, and he’s expected to go early in the NFL draft next spring. (If you’ve lived in these parts for any length of time, this is not news!)

On Sapelo Island, we recently honored our humble native son at a reception at the community center in Hog Hammock. The event was a way for our community to collectively wrap our arms around him and show him our love and support before he enters the big league.

It also gave Allen the opportunity to embrace his family -- parents Alford and Mary, sisters Francenia, Lassaundra and Clarissa, and brothers Quentin, Alfie and Alphonso -- as well as his mentors, the many coaches and teachers who have guided him.

But the event coordinator, Sharon P. Banks, said she also wanted the event to recognize and inspire the more than 40 student athletes who are Sapelo Island descendants.
Allen explained that God and his blessings, his family and his friends are the backbone of his life. His brother, Quentin, who was also a star player at MCA, is his inspiration, and education has always been as important to him as athletics.

“Without education, I wouldn’t have football,” Allen said to the young people in the audience. “The work in the classroom is just as important as the work on the field.”

Some of Bailey’s coaches attended the event to praise Allen and offer advice to Sapelo Island athletes.

“You’ve got to be prepared for what you want to do down the road,” said Allen's former high school coach, MCA Athletic Director Terrence Heywood. “He’s (Allen) set the example for you all. Decisions you make now will affect you when you’re 30, 40 and even 50 years old.”

The keynote speaker was Sapelo Island descendant Reggie Jackson. He attended Savannah State University on a football scholarship and later coached there. He also played in the Canadian Football League.

Jackson asked the student athletes, “What are you going to be known for? The kind of person Allen Bailey is … he doesn’t want you to be like him. He wants you to be better.”

I bleed orange and blue, but I can’t deny how exciting it’s going to be watch Allen wraps up his college career with Miami. I’m also curious to see how Allen and our island hometown are going to be portrayed once he’s in the NFL.

“Hold your head up. Stick your chest out,” Jackson said in his keynote address. “People will see how beautiful Sapelo Island and McIntosh County are. He’s going to need everyone in the community to support him.”

He definitely has this Gator’s love and support.

Photo caption: Sharon Banks presents Allen Bailey with an award at a reception in his honor on Sapelo Island.

New Artwork

My art is now available at "The Shops at 107 Broad, " next to Waterfront Wine and Gourmet in Historic Downtown Darien, Georgia. Stop by and see what's new.

Blackberry Blues

For several days I gathered blackberries growing in our yard and along the roads near our house. I was scratched and scraped and bitten by ants and mosquitoes, but it was worth the work.

I took them home, washed them and froze them, in anticipation of a visit from my sister, father and nephew. I was going to bake a blackberry cobbler.

So when they arrived, I pulled out the berries and put the cobbler in the oven early on Sunday morning. It was a beautiful day, and we ate breakfast on the back porch and talked and laughed. As we talked and laughed, the cobbler baked and baked and baked...and then burned and burned and burned, until no one recognized it as a cobbler.
No one would touch it.

Next year, I'll freeze the blackberries again. But next time, we'll sprinkle them over vanilla ice cream, instead. Even I can't mess that up!

In the Garden

                                                                                     

Early on Saturday mornings, I love to sit in the shade of our back porch, sipping hot tea, listening to the birds, watching the cats play and the two roosters scratch the soil for seeds or worms. I also love watching my husband in his garden.

Everyday he walks the rows, checking for signs that something is about to bear. He talks about his plants in his garden with a strange sort of pride, as if they were his children.

"This one isn't happy," he'll say, and he'll give it extra love and attention, add more water and gently remove any grass or weeds growing around it.

Sometimes he just stands at the fence, with his straw hat tilted back, and he quietly takes in his creation, the fruit of his hard work, with a look of peace and total satisfaction.

Back on Track

"As long as your identity is tied to objects or the opinion of others, your life will feel unstable." -- Deepak Chopra

This is challenging sometimes. It's funny how one person's cruel words or judgement of us can get to us. I had to catch myself recently when I allowed someone's opinion to knock me off balance. This person does not even know me, and doesn't even care to know me. I was unstable for a minute, but then I remembered who I am. I know my spirit and my heart, and I know my worth.

No Bull

Last night, I accidentally walked up on the old wild black bull who lives in the woods across the road from our house. He didn't see me, and I didn't want to surprise him. So I cleared my throat, he looked up, and then he took off running...in the other direction.

Who says living on an isolated undeveloped island is boring?

"Pursue the Things You love"

“You can only become truly accomplished at something you love. Don't make money your goal. Instead, pursue the things you love doing, and then do them so well that people can't take their eyes off you.”

-- Maya Angelou

St. Patrick's Day

Have a happy St. Pat's Day, from a part-Irish soul sister. (Look deep down in the hidden roots of the family tree, and you'll find a hint of green!) For free Irish music downloads, click here.

New Work

For those of you who live in or near Brunswick, Ga., please be sure to visit my small exhibit on the gallery wall at Brunswick-Glynn County Library, 208 Gloucester Street. Say hello if you see me running around the library.

Mom's New Accessory

Mama Dianne has ALS, and can no longer use a regular computer. Her latest accessory is a Tobii computer that lets her navigate the Web, play games, compose documents, etc., all by tracking her eye movements. Watch her during her first try at typing by clicking here. We are grateful for the Carolinas Neuromuscular/ALS Clinic in Charlotte and the Jim "Catfish" Hunter Chapter of the ALS Association, for all they do to help improve the quality of life of my mom and other people with ALS.

Pray the Devil Back to Hell

If you're in need of a film suggestion for Women's History Month in March, I recommend Pray the Devil Back to Hell (not to be confused with the horror flick, Drag Me to Hell). Pray the Devil Back to Hell is a documentary about thousands of courageous women -- Muslim and Christian -- who played a key role in bringing peace to Liberia. (One of their tactics was a "sex strike.") The efforts of these mothers and grandmothers, sisters and aunties also helped bring about the election of Africa's first female head of state. The film gave me one more reason to be proud to be a sister. Be sure to also check out the bonus features on the DVD, especially the acceptance speech given by Leymah Gbowee, when she and some of her fellow activists were honored with the John F. Kennedy Profile in Courage Award in 2009. (Recommended reading: God's Bits of Wood by Sembene Ousmane, another story of African women -- in this case, Senegalese -- who take matters into their own hands.)

Cousin Jerome

Sapelo Island lost a sweet treasure today.

Herbert Jerome Dixon, shown in this photo with my son, Corey A.J., was known throughout the region for his beautiful, tightly coiled sweetgrass baskets. But on Sapelo Island, Jerome will also be remembered as a dedicated community volunteer, devoting many years of hard work to the Sapelo Island Cultural and Revitalization Society; as a faithful member of St. Luke Baptist Church; and as a kind and generous friend and family member to countless people who will miss him dearly.

Jerome taught my son how to make sweetgrass baskets. (Corey actually completed two nice-sized baskets, and sold them both.) But I imagine that Jerome taught his many students much more by the way he lived his life.

Everyone knew that Jerome was not well, but he never complained. He was always patient, pleasant, optimistic and encouraging, especially to the young people in our community.

A few months ago, my husband, my sister and I were in our back yard sorting crabs, when Jerome pulled up in his truck. We offered him a bucket of crabs, stood around talking for awhile, and the next thing we knew, Jerome had invited us to his house to help him eat the crabs we'd just given him.

He boiled the crabs, melted some butter, and then we dumped the crabs on a table and got to cracking while joking and talking trash and listening to oldies on the radio.

I'm so grateful that I had the opportunity to get to know and love Jerome, to call him my cousin, and my friend.

Click here to read Jerome's obituary in The Darien News.
Click here to see photos of Jerome making baskets.

Sweet Dream

In my dreams
I dance with my mother
and she leaps and twirls
and stretches her arms toward heaven
reminding me that one day
we will dance there together.

The Winter Garden

Yesterday I picked what will probably be the last cauliflower and broccoli from our winter garden. We still have plenty of cabbage and lettuce left. The sugar cane didn't survive the recent cold snap.

I remember when I first got married to my Sapelo husband, how he was so horrified that I actually cooked my broccoli in the microwave instead of on the stove top. Five years later, I think he's come to realize that he should be happy that I cook anything at all.

When I was a single mom living in Charlotte, I got home from work and picking up the kids around 7 p.m. Dinner meant a ride through the drive-thru of Wendy's or the local Chinese restaurant. Friday night dinner was usually pizza...ordered via computer and delivered to my door. I usually cooked on Saturdays and Sundays if we didn't eat at my parent's house. My cooking was so bad, the kids actually begged for cereal.

I've come a long way, baby.

Philip Simmons

I first learned about Philip Simmons several years ago, when the National Association of Black Journalists held its regional convention in Charleston. I took a tour of the city that weekend, and learned about Charleston's rich history from the African-American perspective. The tour guide told of Denmark Vesey's plot, the old Hanging Tree, and so much more. He also talked about Simmons and showed us several examples of gates and other works he created.

It was during this visit that I was first exposed to the Gullah-Geechee dialect. I remember a young woman, a guest to the convention, told us a story in Gullah, and I was entranced. I never would have imagined that this language and its culture would become such an important part of my life and work.

Next month, Feb. 5-6, the Hog Hammock Public Library, which I manage, will celebrate the life and work of Philip Simmons, who died last year. We will show the film,  Keeper of the Gate: The Life and Works of Philip Simmons, at 8 p.m. on Friday, Feb. 6. Then, the next day, the Ocmulgee Blacksmith Guild will present a workshop on their craft and highlight some of the ironworks found on Sapelo.

If you don't live on Sapelo Island, but you're interested in attending these programs, you'll need to make overnight arrangments. If you can't come, you can learn more about Simmons at your local library and online.

Confessions after "Flying"

Some of the Sapelo Sisters got together over the holiday to watch Flying: Confessions of a Free Woman. It is a six-part documentary film series that explores love, sex, motherhood, work, abortion, miscarriage, fertility, abuse, female circumcision, marriage, and more.

Filmmaker Jennifer Fox turned the camera on herself and her friends around the world for four years to create this provocative and often painful discussion about what it means to be a free woman. (The film was released in 2006, and I first saw it earlier this year on Sundance Channel.)

After watching the series, we had an intimate conversation about the topics that touched us, or touched a nerve within us, and what we've experienced as wives and mothers, sisters and friends. We came to the conclusion that many of us are not as free as we would like to believe.

Many of us are being held back by our pasts. Some of us are allowing ourselves to be trapped in unhealthy relationships or situations in which we cannot flourish.

If you get a chance to see the film, let me know what you think.

O Holy Night

We serenaded Mama Dianne at our family gathering the week before Christmas.

On the Nightstand

Just finished reading Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. It was recommended by my friend Martha Bireda, who runs the Blanchard House Museum in Punta Gorda, Fla. Martha spent a day with me this summer, when she and her friend anchored a sailboat off Sapelo Island.

The novel takes place in Nigeria in the 1960s, when the Ibo (Igbo) people attempted to secede from Nigeria, and establish the Republic of Biafra.

Martha told me this book would be unforgettable, and she was right. Adichie made the civil war unfold before my imagination. I'll have to take a breath before I start another book. I think I'll read another by Adichie. I've picked her Purple Hibiscus.

Featured Work

I love creating underwater scenes and experimenting with shells, sand dollars, starfish and other objects I find on Sapelo Island's pristine beaches. This set is titled Asteroidea and Sygnathidae. It sold to a buyer on St. Simons Island, Georgia, and is made with fabric (including a beautiful gold silk that I hated to cut), paper, gold and black ink and beads. I have more underwater scenes in the works.

Tomato Pie

The Tomato Pie stole the show from the turkey and trimmings this Thanksgiving. (Sorry there's no photo. It was all gone before I could take a picture.) If you'd like to try it, here's the recipe:

1 9-inch deep pie shell, baked
2 or 3 large tomatoes, thickly sliced
2 or 3 green onions, chopped
1 cup mayonnaise
1 cup sharp cheese, grated
3 slices of bacon, fried crisp
salt and pepper
basil
chives
Parmesan cheese

Fill the cooled pie shell with alternating layers of tomatoes and onions. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, basil and chives. Combine mayonnaise and cheese and spread over the top of the pie. Sprinkle with crushed bacon and Parmesan cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Suggestion: Serve with a salad and garlic bread. Enjoy!

Thanksgiving

This will be my first Thanksgiving away from my husband. He has to work, and I'm going to the Carolinas. That means I won't get the pleasure of watching him cook a coon -- all day long.

Boil it. Rinse it off. Boil it again. Take it in the house. (Yes, the previous steps are all done outdoors.) Put it in a pan. Add sweet potatoes, onions, celery...and bake it.

I'm not much of a coon eater, but I truly enjoy seeing Larry do his thing. He cooks with much passion, complete with dramatic gestures as he throws in the seasonings and quickly dices the onions and the celery.

When he smokes his mullet (um, yes, that's legal), he takes his time, and carefully lines up the sliced-open fish on the grating just so, with each one getting all the love and attention and care it needs to bring out its full flavor.

If we could get Larry to overcome his camera-shyness, he'd have a hit with a Geechee cooking show...live from Johnson Hammock on Sapelo Island, Georgia.

From My List of All-Time Favorite Books

"There is nothing more beautiful than a fish just out of water, its eye clear and fresh, with golden or silvery scales and beautiful blueish glints!" -- So Long A Letter by Mariama Ba

Why do I love this book? The imagery. The courageous women and their struggle with religious and cultural tradition. It's a long letter, but a relatively short book (less than 100 pages) with many layers. I experience something new and, at the same time, reconnect with something old within my spirit every time I read it. It reminds me to let go.

Coming Home

Today is a good day. Mom goes home after more than three weeks in the hospital. She's got lots of new "accessories" to help her keep living with ALS. And she's still smiling and keeping the faith and inspiring us all.

Football Highlight

The score was 50-something to 0 in last week's varsity game, so the Bucs sent in the freshmen to finish the job. My son, Corey (#61), made a tackle. Final score: McIntosh County 61, Pierce County 0. (But I should add that Pierce County had an impressive band.) Below: JoJo Wynn and one of his many touchdowns for the Bucs.

Today's Word: "Faux-shine"

faux-shine n a drink that contains no alcohol, yet makes you happy: I sure could use a sip of faux-shine today. faux-shinin' v to pretend to drink in the presence of drunk folk.

The Serenity Prayer

I've never paid much attention to the "Serenity Prayer," but now I find that praying it over and over again helps me get through the difficult moments of my day.

God, grant us serenity to accept the things
we cannot change, courage to change
the things we can, and wisdom to know
the difference. Amen.

I know that I cannot change my mother's illness, the source of my heartbreak and sorrow, but it's comforting to know that we are not alone. I am thankful for our family and our friends who are always there for us. I am also thankful for the many caring doctors and professionals who are helping us find our way on this dark road called ALS.

The Red Tent

"My heart is a ladle of sweet water brimming over. Selah."
-- from The Red Tent by Anita Diamant

I work in a library, so you'd think I'd be ahead of the game in reading all the bestsellers and classics. Sadly, this is not the case. My "must-read" list of "Books I Should Have Read Already" overfloweth. My most recent reading accomplishment -- This year I read all of the Toni Morrison books I hadn't gotten around to in the last umpteen years. I also read The Red Tent.

This book by Anita Diamant was published in 1997, and it is a historical fictionalization of the Biblical figure, Dinah, whose story is told in Genesis, Chapter 34. Dinah is the daughter of Leah and Jacob, and in the Bible her story is told by her brothers. But Diamant allows Dinah to tell her own sweeping saga of growing up in Mesopotamia, living in Canaan, and dying in Egypt.

The women of Dinah's world were of a different time and culture, but I felt a connection to so many of them. I connected to the traditions of the women, and their time each month in the red tent, the stories they shared, the wisdom they passed along to each other.

I told my sister, Rhonda, about the book, and she read it, too. She felt what I felt, and began reading it to our mother, Dianne.

Our mother has ALS, or Lou Gehrig's Disease, so she is paralyzed and cannot speak. She has some movement in her right hand, but it's impossible for her to hold a book for any length of time. So, Rhonda is mama's audiobook. Rhonda didn't have to get too deep into the book to realize that our mother's bedroom is our "red tent."

Whenever our daughters, godmothers, aunts, sisterfriends and female cousins gather around mama in the bedroom, something inspirational always happens. We share our secrets. We pass along life lessons. We laugh. We cry.

For now, the red tent is in the Intensive Care Unit at the hospital, as mama fights to recover from another bridge she has crossed in her journey with ALS. Even though she is in pain, she still smiles and her eyes light up whenever all of us girls gather around her to comfort her and share our inside jokes about our womanhood.

Mama can no longer speak, but in our red tent, her voice and her laughter are loud and clear.

God of Our Fathers

God of our fathers, whose almighty hand
Leads forth in beauty all the starry band
Of shining worlds in splendor through the skies
Our grateful songs before Thy throne arise.

Thy love divine hath led us in the past,
In this free land by Thee our lot is cast,
Be Thou our Ruler, Guardian, Guide and Stay,
Thy Word our law, Thy paths our chosen way.

From war’s alarms, from deadly pestilence,
Be Thy strong arm our ever sure defense;
Thy true religion in our hearts increase,
Thy bounteous goodness nourish us in peace.

Refresh Thy people on their toilsome way,
Lead us from night to never ending day;
Fill all our lives with love and grace divine,
And glory, laud, and praise be ever Thine.

-- Daniel C. Roberts

We are praying for strength and

courage to make it through. -- MNJ

Parsonage Dedication at St. Luke

The new parsonage at St. Luke Baptist Church on Sapelo Island, was dedicated in honor of God, and in memory of Deacon Fred Allen Johnson, on Sunday, October 11, 2009. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and a very touching ceremony. I know my father-in-law would have been very happy and humbled by the dedication. He was a retired ferry captain who passed away on February 14, 2008, at age 94.

Parsonage Dedication at St. Luke

Know Where You Are

The other night, when my husband picked us up in our fishing boat, it was so dark it made my stomach knot.

I trust my husband's boating skills, and have literally put my life in his hands time and time again crossing the waters to and from Sapelo. He is experienced and capable, and comes from a family of talented captains.

But this darkness was thick.

My eyes could not adjust to it. There was no moon or stars because the sky was thick with clouds. The only thing we could see was what was right beside us, the black shadow of marsh grass.

I asked my husband how he could steer the boat without knowing where he was going, and he just chuckled.

"I don't have to see where I'm going," he said. (Not exactly what you want to hear from your captain.) "All I need to see is where I am."

I let that sink in a moment, and before I could ask for clarification, he continued.

"If you always know where you are, you'll know where you're supposed to be next."

At that moment, the marsh grass disappeared, which told me we were at the place where the river turns and divides around a tiny island. The boat turned and the marsh was back on both sides -- the mainland marsh on the left, and the island on the right.

I started paying close attention to where we were, and the knot in my stomach loosened. When the little island disappeared, I knew that if we went slightly to the right, we'd pass a pole, and then we'd be in the wide part of the river that flows into the sound, and beyond that, Sapelo Island and then the Atlantic Ocean. I knew where I was even without seeing what was ahead of me.

I've thought about that night a lot in the last few days. Right now there is some uncertainty in my life and some frustration over not being able to see what's ahead for me and my family. This is obviously one of those times when I shouldn't worry over what's ahead of me.

I have to trust the Captain of my life. I have to trust that if I stay focused on where I am now, stay on course and remain faithful, He will make sure I get to where I'm supposed to be.

Going Home

Sapelo Island, Ga., is only accessible by state-run ferry or private boat. The last ferry departs for Sapelo at 5:30 p.m. on weekdays, which creates a challenge for island kids who want to participate in after-school activities. My son, Corey, plays football at the high school and has practice or a game every weekday evening. When the weather is nice, my husband, Larry, usually picks us up in his fishing boat. It's cheaper to run the small fishing boat than it is to run our larger boat. If the weather doesn't cooperate, we spend the night on the mainland.