These are Whitehouse/Westside – Riverside ladies. My relatives and ancestors.
From the baby Suzanne, in her mother Naomi’s lap. To her mother Nell Sallas who came out of the woods and moved uptown to Riverside. To her mother Mary Elizabeth Lowe to her mother Eliza Parrish Lowe. Five generations of Westside girls.
Nell was a quiet lady. Like my grandmother, her sister. Stoics.
As a small child, I played Bingo with those two at the Jacksonville Trail Riders, on Halesema Rd. The bingo hall resembled a military bunker. I had actually forgotten about those excursions, until now. Old memories resurface. They began the games with a prayer and a bowed head. This was part of my introduction to the world of Baptists. We were Catholic. The neighbors were pagans as they were not a part of the One Holy Apostolic Church and we were unsaved because the pagans thought that we did not know that Jesus died on the cross for our sins. That’s what the neighborhood kids explained to me as we raced our stingray bikes. My mother reiterated the pagan concept as we passed the little corner church. I asked questions. I wanted to know.
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