September, 1990 - Seattle, Washington - Part One, The Innocent Years
"INTO THE WIND" by Wes Brewton
To my dear sister Alvene:
This is about Bubba. His story needs to be told. My visit to Seattle was to relax, reestablish family ties, and perhaps do a little fishing before I started the next chapter in my ever-changing life after leaving Pawtucket, Rhode Island.
I was amazed to learn just how little you know of our family's history struggling for human rights in this land called America, so I decided to postpone fishing and relaxation to document our family history because the two most lasting bequests we can give our children that are meaningful and priceless are roots and wings...our father gave us both.
There was a ten-year separation between you, the youngest child out of seven, and our oldest brother Bubba (Alton Jr.). What follows is all I know of his life.
As far back as I can remember, our father, Alton Beverly Brewton Sr. (Daddy, Black Eagle) loved airplanes, automobiles, and engines. He was an expert auto mechanic and many of his customers were wealthy. Daddy ran his auto repair business, called Black Eagles Garage, in a large building behind our house at 2414 North Taylor in St. Louis, Missouri.
It was while living on Taylor that daddy would take us to many cultural events, among them being the outdoor St. Louis Opera in Forest Park and to Pylon Air Races held at Lamberts Field outside of St. Louis. Pylon races were popular during what is known as the "Golden Age of Aviation." When I was four or five, in 1936 or 1937, we would pile into the family car and daddy would drive to Lamberts Field and park off the road under a large shade tree. We would have a picnic and watch the air races. It was free and it was fun.
The aircraft used in these races were small, fast, loud, brightly colored airplanes. They would race around pylons, set about a mile apart, forming a rectangtular course, barely 100 feet off the ground. The racers would go round and round, sometimes wing tip to wing tip. I can still see Bubba and daddy yelling for "their" plane to win the race..."come on Red Devil!" daddy would yell, followed by Bubba's, "catch him yellow jacket!"
I was more interested in mom's (Bessie Earline Genia Vestima Wesley) cool lemonade and the good things she had prepared in her picnic basket while I played with "Cookie" (Wilbert), "Lena" (Earline), and "Sis" (Elizabeth). Nancy was the baby of the family during these years prior to your birth.
It was here, at the air races, that Bubba's love for flying was born and became an obsession.
~ tomorrow, "Trash Day" ~
To my dear sister Alvene:
This is about Bubba. His story needs to be told. My visit to Seattle was to relax, reestablish family ties, and perhaps do a little fishing before I started the next chapter in my ever-changing life after leaving Pawtucket, Rhode Island.
I was amazed to learn just how little you know of our family's history struggling for human rights in this land called America, so I decided to postpone fishing and relaxation to document our family history because the two most lasting bequests we can give our children that are meaningful and priceless are roots and wings...our father gave us both.
There was a ten-year separation between you, the youngest child out of seven, and our oldest brother Bubba (Alton Jr.). What follows is all I know of his life.
As far back as I can remember, our father, Alton Beverly Brewton Sr. (Daddy, Black Eagle) loved airplanes, automobiles, and engines. He was an expert auto mechanic and many of his customers were wealthy. Daddy ran his auto repair business, called Black Eagles Garage, in a large building behind our house at 2414 North Taylor in St. Louis, Missouri.
It was while living on Taylor that daddy would take us to many cultural events, among them being the outdoor St. Louis Opera in Forest Park and to Pylon Air Races held at Lamberts Field outside of St. Louis. Pylon races were popular during what is known as the "Golden Age of Aviation." When I was four or five, in 1936 or 1937, we would pile into the family car and daddy would drive to Lamberts Field and park off the road under a large shade tree. We would have a picnic and watch the air races. It was free and it was fun.
The aircraft used in these races were small, fast, loud, brightly colored airplanes. They would race around pylons, set about a mile apart, forming a rectangtular course, barely 100 feet off the ground. The racers would go round and round, sometimes wing tip to wing tip. I can still see Bubba and daddy yelling for "their" plane to win the race..."come on Red Devil!" daddy would yell, followed by Bubba's, "catch him yellow jacket!"
I was more interested in mom's (Bessie Earline Genia Vestima Wesley) cool lemonade and the good things she had prepared in her picnic basket while I played with "Cookie" (Wilbert), "Lena" (Earline), and "Sis" (Elizabeth). Nancy was the baby of the family during these years prior to your birth.
It was here, at the air races, that Bubba's love for flying was born and became an obsession.
~ tomorrow, "Trash Day" ~
posted by bugbytelove | 7:28 AM
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