Finding Eliza (9 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Pitcher Fishman

Tags: #christian fiction, #georgia history, #interracial romance, #lynching in america, #southern fiction, #genealogy, #family history

BOOK: Finding Eliza
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“Don’t you forget it,” replied Jack. Wiping mounds of soap bubbles from his hands, he swiveled in her arms and pulled her in close. “So, give me the skinny on what Gramps had to say. I woke up at two a.m., and you still had the light on. How late did you stay up reading, anyway?”

“I wasn’t up much after that. It is so interesting, Jack. I think I’m beginning to understand Eliza’s secrets.”

“Do tell…” Jack laced his arms across his chest and leaned back against the kitchen sink. “Secrets, huh? Sounds juicy.”

“My great-aunt Eliza was in a relationship with an African American man. Well, if you want to call a seventeen-year-old boy a man.” Lizzie crossed the kitchen and sat down at the table to enjoy her coffee and bagel as they talked.

“That’s not exactly the big secret that I thought it was going to be. Two teenagers dating. Really risky. Well, unless Daddy had a shot gun and little Eliza was home late after a date,” teased Jack with wink. He refilled his mug with strong, black coffee and joined Lizzie at the table. Jack checked the time on the time-worn pocket watch that he carried just as his grandfather had. Leaning back to prop his feet onto the seat across from him, he added, “I’ve got a little time for a few more details.”

“You’ve got to put it into perspective. This was happening in 1934. I don’t think that was a normal occurrence then at all. Remember, Jim Crow laws were in effect up until the 1960s. We are talking about a time when they weren’t even allowed to go to the same school much less date. I mean, this was risky business. I’ve got a ton of questions for Gran today.”

“What did your great-grandfather write about it? I bet he flipped his lid.”

“I don’t know how it ended. I’m not that far into the diary yet. Alston seemed scared in the entries that I read. I spent a few hours going through them, but there’s so much more in those pages. He spent a lot of time begging her to keep herself safe. Several times he wrote that he asked her to stop seeing this boy so that she wouldn’t bring attention to herself or to their family.” Lizzie took another bite of her bagel. “I didn’t get the feeling that it offended him as much as you'd think back then. I think he was more afraid.”

“Afraid of what? Their parents?”

“I guess. I read a handful of entries that made it seem like Alston and my great-grandmother, Anne, discussed it at length. They even had Eliza out for the weekend so that they could talk to her. I guess it was a Depression-era version of an intervention. He wrote like it was a pretty big deal. I think they tried to handle it quietly. He seemed pretty close with his sister.”

“Did Big Brother get his way?”

“It doesn’t seem like it. Eliza seemed to be pretty convinced that she was in love. Can you imagine that? At fifteen or sixteen years old? She was so young.”

“Doesn’t sound that crazy to me. I knew that I was in love when I was sixteen.” Jack stood up and put his hand on the side of Lizzie’s face giving her a gentle kiss. Crossing the worn wooden floor, he placed his used mug in the sink and started gathering his case files to take back to the station. “If Alston was talking about shame in the first entry, he couldn’t have been too pleased that she wasn’t listening to him.”

“Like I said, it seems like he was reacting out of fear or some sense of social responsibility. I can’t get a bead on him. I’m not sure if he was scared for her or himself. I know he was concerned that others not find out. He hasn’t been crass about Eldridge being black, which surprised me for the period.” Lizzie paused. “That’s his name. Eldridge.”

“Eliza and Eldridge. So, Gramps used his name. That has to give you a hint about it. He didn’t call him something else at least.”

“Who knows? I’d think if he were an out and out racist I would have heard the ‘n-word’ by now.” Lizzie took another bite of her bagel and wiped her mouth with a cotton napkin. “I think I might do a little research today. I want to see what it was like back then. I just don’t know where to start. How on earth do I find out what it was like to date outside your race then?”

“Google is your friend, my dear. It knows all.” Jack picked up his keys and slung the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Let me know if you find out anything good. You’re meeting Miss Gertrude this afternoon, right? Why don’t we meet up in town for a beer and a sandwich after your visit with her? I’ll treat. We’ll call it date night.” He leaned over to place a kiss on the top of the head and then walked towards the door.

“Sounds good. Meet you at Gill’s? Six o’clock? I’ll be meeting Gran for lunch, and then I’ll just go hang out at her house for a while. Maybe she’s got something else hidden in that attic of hers that would be neat to look through. I mean, she kept the diary from me for all these years. You never know what else she’ll have up there.”

Jack walked out the screened door toward his truck. Just as the door bounced against its wooden frame she heard her husband call out, “Call me at the station if you find a body up there.”

Lizzie crossed her arms and leaned against the back of her chair. She noticed the sun shining brightly through the white kitchen curtains, and Lizzie couldn’t help smilng. Her grandmother had finally won. After years of begging her to take an interest in her family’s history, curiosity had finally gotten hold of her.

 

***

 

After a quick shower, Lizzie slipped into a comfy pair of boot-cut jeans and a blue and green knitted sweater with a cowl neckline. Although she was able to dress casually at work, it was nice to wear what she wanted rather than what fit a dress code. Her naturally curly hair just needed a quick towel dry and some gel to keep it in check. Since it was a day off, she skipped the makeup but layered on her favorite necklaces and bangle bracelets. Buckling a leather wrap belt around her waist she stood in front of the full length mirror. This time her reflection showed something more like her and less like a Munchkin from Oz.

“Better,” Lizzie giggled.

Heading downstairs, she grabbed her laptop and settled into her favorite chair in the corner of the sun room. The large cushions were a little less firm than when she purchased the chair a decade ago, and the flowered print had started to fade. Even with its wear, it was still her favorite piece of furniture in the house. The sun room was her favorite place to sit when she had the house to herself. The morning sun streamed through the white eyelet curtains and flooded the room with the brightest light that she had seen in a long time. The grandfather clock in the corner chimed. She had two hours until she needed to meet her grandmother in the park for lunch. It was just enough time to research what life was like for an interracial couple in the 1930s.

Lizzie drank the last of her coffee and started searching the Internet. “Let’s see what you’ve got for me, Google,” she whispered.

History had always been one of her favorite subjects in high school. She couldn’t remember the subject of interracial relationships showing up in her American History class. She had no idea what she would find. As she clicked links for blog posts and history journals, she realized that the past was darker than she thought.

After clicking a series of links, Lizzie discovered a local college's history department website. “Bingo!” she yelled. Besides documenting a complete list of race-based Jim Crow laws, the website included a time line showing changes in the social history of Georgia. Lizzie ran a finger down the laptop screen looking for entries related to the 1930s.

Lizzie’s stomach sank as she read an entry related to miscegenation that included a definition.

 

“Miscegenation: the interbreeding of people from two different racial backgrounds.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said into the empty room. She continued reading.

 

“Starting in colonial times, laws preventing interracial marriages and relationships, or miscegenation, were common across the United States. Once considered something only found in the American South, these laws can be found across the country. They remained in effect in various states until 1967 when the United States Supreme Court ruled them unconstitutional in Loving v. Virginia…”

 

Halfway down the web page, Lizzie found a link titled, Miscegenation Laws in Georgia. She scanned the list until she found the laws during Eliza’s life.

 

1926: Colored clergy can marry Negroes only. Other marriages are to be nullified.

 

1927: White persons may only marry other white persons. All persons with ascertainable traces of Negro blood must marry Negroes only. Penalties include up to two years’ incarceration.

 

1928: Miscegenation is declared a felony.

 

Lizzie picked up the diary and looked for the date of the first entry. On the top of the second page she located it: 1934. Looking back to her laptop, she scanned the list for that year’s entry.

 

1935: It is illegal for a white person to marry anyone other than another white person. Felony conviction requires one to two years imprisonment for both the male and female as well as the performing clergy.

 

Lizzie needed a break. She sat the laptop on the ottoman in front of her and walked into the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Her mind raced with the implications of Eliza’s relationship with Eldridge. From what the college website said, the relationship would be illegal not only in the state of Georgia but also in other states as well. She couldn’t comprehend living a life during a time where she had to consider the law over her heart. Reaching into the fridge for her carton of vanilla creamer, Lizzie’s eyes landed on a photo of her and Jack. It was a candid shot of the two laughing together when they were in high school. She couldn’t remember who took the photo, but she did remember her feelings that she had for Jack that day. It was the same feeling that she imagined Eliza having when she looked at Eldridge.

Returning to the sun room, Lizzie continued researching the life that her great-aunt would have lived. At the bottom of the web page below the time line, she saw a link titled, “Interviews and Articles.” Faces of young and old sat on the screen before her. Below each photograph were dates and notations that gave hints to their experiences.

 

Jailed.

Hanged.

Lynched.

 

As Lizzie read through the social history of the times, she read personal accounts that tied her stomach into knots. Originally she thought that her great grand-father was just concerned about what the neighbors around town may have thought about his sister’s relationship. Now she realized that Eliza’s relationship with Eldridge wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t just illegal. It could have led to a lynching or a murder.

After an hour of research, Lizzie was exhausted. Flipping through the pages of the diary, she once again read the words of her great-grandfather after she discovered his sister’s relationship. This time, the emotions weren’t foreign to her. Lizzie found herself worried about Eliza just as Alston did.

“Oh, Gramps. No wonder you were so afraid for your sister.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

On the way to the park, Lizzie stopped by Gertrude’s favorite bakery for chicken salad on freshly made croissants. As she walked through town, Lizzie patted her bag to reassure herself that the diary was safe and sound. Within minutes she could see her favorite park come into view. As soon as she crossed the road, she noticed her grandmother sitting on the park bench underneath Lizzie’s favorite tree. Sitting next to Gertrude were Blue, Abi, and Claud.

“Gran, I only brought two sandwiches. You should have told me we were having a party!”

“Oh, we brought our own, dear. In fact, we brought enough for everyone,” Claud said as she patted her picnic basket. “We’ve got finger sandwiches and crudites. There’s a little meat and cheese. I also packed a few small salads. Bread?” Claud held out a bag filled with soft rolls made earlier that morning.

“Miss Claud, you’re fantastic. I think we’d all starve if we didn’t have you, and I truly mean that.” Lizzie gave her a huge squeeze around the neck. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?”

“Oh, Lizzie, dear. You’re just a peach. I’m just sharing what I love with the people that I love most. We should move over to the picnic table and start eating before the ham gets cold.”

“You’d think she was feeding an army,” Blue chuckled. “We’re thankful, Claud, but our thighs aren’t going to be tomorrow.”

The ladies gathered their bags and made their way to the picnic table near the side garden. It gave them a perfect view of the park with all the color of the fall flowers and trees. Just beyond it sat the gazebo and roses. Lizzie stood by the table looking across the landscape. Even though she had visited the park only a day before, there was something different about it. She always felt grounded in this space, but today she felt more connected. Maybe it wasn’t the park. Perhaps it was her. She took a deep breath of the clean fall air, and placed her meager lunch offerings in the middle of the pile.

Gertrude smiled as she opened Lizzie’s purchase. “You brought my favorite sandwiches. Thank you dear. It’s wonderful,” she said as she placed a squeeze around her granddaughter’s shoulders. Lizzie noticed how happy her grandmother looked that afternoon. She wondered if she was feeling that same lightness that Lizzie did. It didn’t make sense how one evening together could have made a difference, yet somehow it had. She walked over to the table and took a seat between Abi and Blue.

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