Numbers... a Gangsta's Child: A Woman's Journey from Rags to Riches

NUMBERS…

A Gangsta’s Child

A WOMAN’S JOURNEY

FROM RAGS TO RICHES

STEVEN JACKSON

AuthorHouse™ LLC

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Phone: 1-800-839-8640

© 2014 Steven Jackson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/30/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4833-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4835-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4836-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014900180

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Dedication

Many people enter our lives on a daily bases for reasons unknown to us. Only a few of them have an exceptional impact in what we think, say and do. A significant factor as to whether that exceptional person has had a negative or positive influence on us can be determine by the way we react to their actions. In most cases, that exceptional individual is a man; someone who stands out amongst our families, friends and in society. However, that exceptional person can be a woman.

Today, you will go back in time with me to visit an era where Numbers… A Gangsta’s Child was born into the life of a home grown entrepreneur as hard as STEELE. Mind you, most stories like this normally become undocumented moments in history that fade away with the people who had witnessed the events of that time. Numbers… A Gangsta’s Child, flourished when racial discrimination leaned on a people, police brutality was the norm, poverty crippled the poor and radical movements for social change warranted public awareness. Numbers… very existence was to fulfill the aspiration of many people who had nothing but a dime and a dream.

I want to express my love to my great, grandfather Donaldson Little (Big Papa) who migrated with his family from Sumrall, Mississippi to New York, to flee from the intolerable acts of racism and poor work opportunities in the south.  Respect to my biological father John Stanley Blake, his mother Pleasant Ayers and his father Wallace Blake. Also, I want to thank my brother Robert Wallace (CEO of RAW Management) for the inspiration, I had received from his experiences on the streets of Harlem, New York. Love and respect to my brother from another mother, poet John Survivor Blake. Much love and respect to my cousins Raymond Perry and Earl Perry who resides in uptown Harlem. More love and respect goes to the strong men figures, I have broken bread with during my young: Uncle Counce Eagleton, Uncle Leroy Little, Uncle William Little, Robert Sutton and the man, I have known as my father, Bob Wallace. All of whom, I keep close to my heart.

Believe it or not, Ancestry.com played a major role in providing me with the worldwide platform of census, newspapers, marriage records and other data needed to conduct a successful search into the lives of my great grandparents.  I hope many others will take advantage of ancestry.com and the great services it has to offer.

I want to thank the women who had influence on me, one way or another in my journey through life. My great grandmother Laura Tripett Little, Isabell Eagleton, Betty J. Rodenas, Angelina E. Rogers (Sissy), Cindy Floyd, Leona Little (music teacher), Ora Garrett, Donna Brown, Stephanie Foggie-Welch, Gail Fredrick and Georgina Hall.

Appreciation, love and respect to my children (if, I know them or not): Steven Jackson Jr., Curtis Jackson (R.I.P.), Aleem Hall, Jamal Jackson, David Jackson, Jannah Jackson and Malik Omar Jackson.

Special thanks go to: Tracey Jackson, Barbara Ann Jackson, Retha Rawls and Dorothy Perry. Like it or not… this book is in dedication to Shirley Jackson

EXT. HIGHWAY I 10—GREYHOUND BUS—DAY

A jar is cleansed of its fluids and pickles. Its label has taken a new identity and new meaning. Quarters, nickels and dimes now occupy the space once used by the green eatables. For several months STEELE has been saving her allowance to run away from the comfort of a mother’s heavy hand who sets the house rules like a tyrant. It was only six months ago when two Puerto Rican nationalists, Oscar Collazo and Girsel Torresola attempted to assassinate President Harry Truman in Washington, DC. One guard was killed and two others were injured but Truman was unharmed.

A one way ticket into the unknown with no intent to return to her place of birth soothes this girl’s troubled heart. Steele gladly sits at a window where she glares into the open space not looking at anything in particular. Green grassy terrain, leafy trees, horses, and cows are seen in the distance as the bus drive pass familiar farmlands where Steele once played. This trip begins a new life as she ventures off not knowing her fate at the end of the road. Founded in 1914 the Greyhound Bus is one of the few bus coaches that transports people from the south to northern states. Greyhound Bus prides itself on comfort and safety for all of its passengers. This is the first time Steele has traveled alone. The BUS DRIVER adjust his rear view mirror.

BUS DRIVER

Folks! You all take a seat now and take out your tickets.

Next stop Biloxi, Mississippi! Folks… no standing in

the aisles.

The bus approaches its stop and the driver instructs his passengers to take all of their bags with them as they prepare to exit the bus. The remaining passengers have ten minutes to use the rest room and buy snacks from the town’s grocery store located across the dirt road. Steele opens a small brown paper bag that contains her lunch she prepared prior to running away from her parent’s home. This Jim Crow bus station is known for its visible negro and whites only discrimination signs that hang above both of the bathroom entrances. Entering the wrong restroom if you’re colored can cost you your life. A common policy known to the respectable church going folks in this GOD fearing town.

STEELE (V.O.)

I hope I made the right decision to go up north to

live with my grand parents. I hope they don’t change

their minds. If they do I reckon I’ll join the army before

I go back there. I’m not going back.

Steele stretches her arms into the air as she prepares herself for a nap. After a long jarring ride the Greyhound Bus pulls into Port Authority Bus Terminal in New York City.

BUS DRIVER

You all fetch your things before you leave my bus.

I’m not responsible if you lose your stuff! You Negroes

sit tight wait for these good folks to exit. Watch your

step now. Have a safe trip. You folks have a good old

time now; ya hear!

Steele stands to her feet to reach for her suitcase on the overhead rack. She watches the last white passenger shake the bus driver’s hand before exiting the bus. Once off the bus Steele rushes through the crowd of people in the terminal to find her way to the main streets.

INT. PORT AUTHORITY BUS TERMINAL—42ND STREET

—DAY

Steele scrambles through the crowd of people to find her way out of the terminal. She finally reaches the exit that leads to the main walk way outside. Traffic is bumper to bumper in both directions. Dump trucks, city buses and taxi cabs move in slow motion due to the heavy flow of cars on the streets. The sidewalk is crowded with business people who walk with a sense of urgency. Steele rushes toward the curb to flag down a cab for the first time in a strange city.

STEELE

Taxi! Taxi! Over here.

Steele waves her arm from side to side. A yellow taxi drives up in front of her. A chubby CAB DRIVER steps out. He wobbles to the trunk of his cab with Steele’s suitcase. Steele sits in the back seat. The cab slowly takes off into traffic. The driver glances at Steele from his rear view mirror.

CAB DRIVER

Where ya going doll face?

STEELE

Ummmm. I’m going to 286 West 147th Street

between Seven and Six… no wait! Between

Seventh and Eighth. Yeah… between Seventh

and Eighth. That’s in Harlem. That’s it!

CAB DRIVE

Take it easy doll face so you wanna go to 286

West 147th street between Seventh and Eighth

Ave. Gotcha doll face! Sit back and enjoy the ride.

I know this city like the back of my hand. I get a

lot of fares that wanna go uptown to the Coloreds.

The plump cab driver reaches out to move the meter handle to start the rate machine.

STEELE

Wow! So this is New York City. This place is

far out! So many people. Groovy, I’m on cloud nine.

CAB DRIVER

Yeah doll face… this is the Big Apple! Plenty to see here.

The taxi driver maneuvers his way through traffic Steele contains her inner joy as she gazes out the cab window at the tall buildings and souvenir shops that line the streets of Manhattan. The taxi drives up 8th avenue along Central Park where people enjoy their buggy rides, tranquil walks with their pets and quiet moments on park benches reading the daily news. Squirrels are racing, birds are flying about from tree to tree chasing each other as if they’re playing a game of tag. Central Park is America’s first landscaped public park. This land is 700 acres of the park’s 843 acres that stretch between 5th and 8th avenues and 59th and 106th streets surrounded by Manhattan.

Northeast section of the park between 106th and 110th streets was a swampy area. The first section of Central Park was open to the public in 1859. By 1865 Central Park was receiving over seven million visitors. In 1871 the Central Park Zoo was opened. Steele finally reaches her destination. She pulls out money to pay her fare. The cabbie steps out of the taxi, walks to the trunk to remove her suitcase.

CAB DRIVER

Take care doll face.

STEELE

Thank you Harry keep the change.

Steele exits the taxi a little Negro boy rides his bicycle past Steele causing her to stumble backwards.

STEELE

Hey! Little punk. You almost ran over my foot. You retard.

INT. 286 W. 147TH STREET—GRANDPARENT’S BUILDING

—DAY

Steele walks through the entrance of her GRANDPARENT’S tenement apartment building.

STEELE

Let me see…# 5C. Oh no. Oh well.

Steele walks up the stairs clinching onto her suitcase. She reaches the fifth floor suddenly she remembers that no one is home. An extra key is in the mailbox labeled # 5C.

STEELE

Dang—Blang—It! I forgot all about that darn key.

Steele rushes back down the stairs with her suitcase clinched in her hands. She retrieves the key. She struggles up the five flights of stairs. She reaches the door and inserts the key into the lock. She twist and turns then realizes that BIG PAPA left the wrong key.

STEELE

What the hell is going on here? Man… I gotta pee!

This is a drag.

Steele places her suitcase on the floor next to the locked door. She breathes heavy Steele playfully executes the pee dance. She anxiously waits for her grandparents to arrive. Steele leans against the hallway wall she slides down to sit on her suitcase. People can be heard walking up the stairs.

BIG PAPA

Steele… good to see you. Go down stairs and fetch

them grocery bags for me honey. I’m getting old,

my back ache.

Steele passes Big Papa as he slowly walks up the stairs. BIG MAMA huffin’ and puffin’ follows behind him.

BIG MAMA

Hey Baby… good to see ya. Them can goods heavy,

be careful.

Steele takes hold of the grocery bag handle. She works her way back up the stairs. Her grandparents have gone inside their apartment. The door is slightly open. Steele brushes her shoulder against the front door. She pans the living room with her eyes from right to left as she begin to take small steps inside the dwelling. The bag of groceries knock against her knees as she walk towards the kitchen.

STEELE

Big Mama, Why so dark in here?

Steele walks into the kitchen and places the grocery bag on top of the table next to the other bags her grandparents carried from the A&P Grocery Store.

BIG MAMA

Baby… you wanna soda pop? I got grape, orange, strawberry…

STEELE

No Big Mama. I’m a turn on the lights then use the commode.

From the living room Big Papa calls out for Steele.

BIG PAPA

Steele… honey come here. Your granddaddy

wants to talk to you.

STEELE

I’ll be right there.

Steele rushes to the bathroom then accompanies her grandfather in the living room.

STEELE

Hi Big Papa. Good to see ya. I’m on cloud nine

right now, cloud nine.

BIG PAPA

Good to see you too Steele. Golly! I haven’t seen

you since way back when you were a little tot!

Sit next to your granddaddy.

Steele lets out a light giggle as she sits on the sofa next to her mother’s father.

STEELE

I wanna thank you for taken me in.

BIG PAPA

I know what’s going on with that gal of a mother

of yours. Big Mama and I wanna see ya do well.

When you called we was happy to take ya.

STEELE

Thank you for understanding Big Papa. I have

nowhere else to go.

Big Papa reaches out to embrace his granddaughter. Big Mama walks in the living room. Big Papa stands to his feet and walks toward the back room. Big Mama sits beside Steele.

BIG MAMA

Hey Baby… how ya doing? I’m glad you’re here.

Real glad.

STEELE

Big Mama… I’m on cloud nine. I can’t believe it!

Thank you. I swear… I won’t let you down. I swear!

You’ll see, I swear.

BIG MAMA

Okay Baby, okay.

Big Mama smiles at Steele then reaches out to squeeze her cheeks.

BIG MAMA

Like I said Baby my home is your home. You can

stay here as long as you like you hear? Don’t worry

bout a thing you wit Big Mama now.

STEELE

I’m glad.

BIG MAMA

Lets see. Oh… for the time being you’ll be sleeping in

here on this coach til we get-cha one a them fold up

beds. I’ll be back Baby.

Big Mama embrace Steele with a hug Big Mama walks away.

STEELE (V.O.)

This place is a little different from what I’m use to. But

it’s better than nothing. Back home… I mean back at my

parent’s house I had my own room. On my walls in my

room I have pictures of Wilson Pickett, James Brown

and Jackie Robinson. All my dolls are lined up on my

bed watching television. I have pink sheets on my bed.

A long pink blanket and… I miss my room. But I don’t

wanna go back… no way.

Big Mama returns with clean bed linens and a pillow.

BIG MAMA

Baby! Here is a blanket, two white sheets and a pilla.

This should do it til we can do better. Everything will

be just fine… GOD willing.

Big Mama and Steele stand face to face with expressions of happiness. She lets out an unexpected yawn from her mouth.

BIG MAMA

Oh my. Baby… I’ll see ya in the morning bright and

early you hear. Baby you sleep good now.

STEELE

Ok Big Mama, you sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.

BIG MAMA

Oh no Baby We don’t have bed bugs. But if you see any

let me know.

BRIEF ANCESTRY OF BIG MAMA

Big Mama (Laura Tripett Little) was born November 24, 1889. She comes from a small town called Sumrall, Mississippi. Sumrall was located one hundred years ago by Watts Lott who never entered claim for the land. He reared his family and when he died his sons settled and cleared the land. His oldest son, Arthur, built and maintained a water mill which was located on a dirt road. He later sold this mill to Daniel Sumrall who built a gin. Two years later a post office was built, this was in 1890s and it was named Sumrall for Dan Sumrall. Log Cabins were built before the timber