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Journey Proud: a novel
by Carolyn Fleming
274 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #00-0089; ISBN 1-55212-424-X; US$22.95, C$26.39, EUR18.85, £13.20
During the summer of 1933 the inhabitants of a small Georgia town take hard times with dignity and grace, but too soon are required to deal with mystery, scandal and tragedy. Unforgettable characters are portrayed with both humor and sensitivity.
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About the Book
*****Carolyn Fleming will be teaching in the MidSummer Macon Creative Writing Camp for Teens, June 18-22, on the campus of Wesleyan College. She will be doing a workshop on "Novel and Memoir" for the students, ages 14-19, for 1 1/2 to 2 hours per day.In addition, Ms. Fleming will do a public reading on Tuesday, June 19, 8:15-9:30 p.m. in Taylor Amphitheatre on the Wesleyan campus. For information on obtaining admission to either the Camp or the reading, please contact Jeanette L. Shackelford*****
In 1933 the quiet and gentle life of Baxton, a small rural town in Georgia, is disrupted when native son and world traveler, Jason Randolph, returns after an absence of eleven years. Mystery surrounds the simultaneous arrival of Josephine, an infamous beauty, who had visited Baxton only once before, eleven years earlier.
Spunky nine-year-old Sunny Leigh and her "worst" friend, Jimbo Byrd, observe the developing crises and become participants in the fast-moving events. Sunny's parents, Allyson and David Leigh, play their parts in the drama on another level, as do the other inhabitants of this quintessential southern town. As they go about their Depression-era lives, they eventually uncover in one short summer the connection between events past and present.
Jason's sister Fanny allows her intense hatred of Josephine to goad Fanny to an unspeakable act of destruction. In addition, Jason's good intentions are destroyed by an unexpected disaster, the Leighs and their neighbors confront the Ku Klux Klan, and the whole town is affected by a mysterious death.
The surprise ending features Governor Eugene Talmadge, a real personage among otherwise fictitious characters. Integral to the story are Eldora and Willie Jackson, who have their own troubles to deal with, even as they become caught up in the white folks' problems. It is Eldora who teaches Sunny the real meaning of "journey proud". She and Willie provide wisdom that will remiain with the reader long after the book is laid aside. Other dividends of Journey Proud are its gentle humor woven into the picture of a bygone time and its people who considered that they had all the luxuries of life even if they lacked some of the necessities.
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About the Author
Carolyn Fleming was born in Forsyth, Georgia where her Alexander family had lived for more than 100 years. She and her husband, Jack, won The Adclia Rosaco Award for the book and lyrics of Seaplane, a musical about early flight, written with noted composer Allen Pote. The three also collaborated on Imagination!, a musical/whimsical about Robert Louis Stevenson and the musical Bahia de Panzacola.
She is the author of Pensacola Holidays and Democracy Means Sharing. Memory's Feast is a work in progress.
She lives in Pensacola, Florida.
excerpt from Chapter Thirty-Two
The sudden ringing of the telephone startled David. It was well past six o'clock.
"David, this is Central. Something fishy is going on, and I want you to be careful." He held the receiver six inches away from his ear, and her penetrating twang filled his office. "Everybody on the Square has gone home but you, and some strange-looking men are just lolling around. Their cars are parked in different places, and three or four men are looking in the Millinery Shop, and you know they're not interested in Maybelle's hats. Didn't I see Willie go into your office? Is he still there? Well, most of the men are looking your way. There's the switchboard. Must go. Lock your door."
Central's authority was such that David obediently put the latch on. Through the glass door he noticed that four men he did not know were now sitting on the green bench by the drugstore and two others were by the old horse trough. It almost appeared that the men were closing in on his office, katty-kornered from the Baxton Police Station. The telephone switchboard was over the police station, which may have explained why Central was so personally fearless. On this particular evening, he hoped her confidence was not misplaced.
Then David realized that Willie looked terrified. "Willie, have you heard of any disturbance in town?"
"Yessuh. I sho' have. The KKK rode through colored town las' night. They didn't do nothin', but they made a lot of racket, hootin' and hollerin' that they'd be back tonight. They skeered us all mighty bad."
"I'll take you home. My car is parked in the back." Once in the Model T, David asked Willie when he was going to join Eldora in Detroit.
"Day aftuh tomorrow. I'm ready."
"I think it might be a good idea if you left sooner. Can you leave now?"
"I spec I can, seein' how I finished what Colonel Dudley wanted done at the lake house. My suitcase is already packed."
David's heart was pounding when he locked the back door and motioned Willie into the front seat of the Model T parked in the alley. As they turned into Willie's rutted street, all was unnaturally quiet. No children played outside. The houses were dark and shuttered. When David parked in front of Willie's house, they both gasped.
"Mr. David...!!"
"Good Lord!"
In an oak tree in Willie's small yard, a dummy body was hanging by the neck from a rope. On its head was a cap like Willie's.
"Willie, let's put you on the 6:30 train." Looking quickly at his pocket watch, David said, "We've got twenty minutes to make it."
Hurriedly Willie got his battered suitcase from the house and they headed back toward town. David, angry and determined, promised Willie that he was going immediately to see Sheriff Jenkins. "I'm just ashamed that anyone would put such a terrible thing in your front yard."
Willie was now more calm than David. "Should I have to git on that train in a hurry, I want to thank you and Miz Allyson and Sunny for all you done for me and Eldora. Mr. Jason and Miss Fanny, too. They left us fixed for the rest of our born...."
David interrupted, "Willie, I'm worried that by now those men know we have left my office and will be looking for my car."
"Tell you what you do. Go by the Buggy Works. I parked Mr. Jason's Packard there today, and Mr. Edgar's not 'spectin' it til Monday. The keys is under the seat."
Getting out of the Model T in the alley behind the Buggy Works, they could hear several car engines sputtering to life. In the more powerful Packard, David left the alley and skirted the square. Two cars fell in behind them and then a third. The car immediately behind was so close David feared that it might force the Packard off the road.
"It's the KKK, all right," Willie said. "All those mens puttin' on they pointy hats."
The thought of Willie's being pulled out of the car overcame David's feeling of strangeness in handling the large, heavy car, and the Packard lurched and pulled ahead. "Lock the doors!" David half expected to hear the whirring siren of Baxton's one police vehicle. Then he remembered that the police and the fireman were having a fish fry at the Masonic Park. He wondered if their pursuers knew that, too, and had deliberately chosen the date.
"There's the depot, and the train is already in. I'll drive up as close as I can. Don't worry about your ticket; you can buy it on the train."
"I've got the cash right here in my pocket. I'm much obliged to you, Mr. David."
"Wait! Don't get out! Some of them are already here!"
A black Studebaker, loaded with white forms, waited under the depot shelter. A Model A touring car was parked behind a cart stacked high with chicken coops, noisy with chickens. No one else was in sight but the conductor, who stood by what was always the longest train that came through Baxton each day.
"I don't want you to get dangered because of me, Mr. David. If they get close, I'll jes' bop 'em with my suitcase."
"They've got us outnumbered! Don't get out of the car! I have a plan." David turned the car around and drove back toward town.
The driver of the Model A, the nearest to them, turned too, but he jerked the car so quickly he ran into the cart of chickens, releasing most of them. They jumped around on the hood and the windshield, squawking and flapping their wings.
The three pursuing cars ran through a cloud of chicken feathers as they followed David's car around the square.
Ah-oo-ga! David pressed on the horn.
"Maybe Central will see us and call the police." The cars kept following as he turned up Railroad Street and neared the crossing.
"Hold on!" The Packard hit the railroad tracks fast and bounced into the air, but David managed to hold on to the steering wheel. Then he turned down the dirt road on the other side of the tracks. The train whistle sounded behind them, nearly drowned out by the clatter of cars behind them.
"I understan' what you doin' now, Mr. David! You headin' toward Sutton Corners to catch the train!"
"Right! But we've got to outrun it, and it doesn't have as many curves and hills as we do!"
The train whistle sounded again, near and loud this time. Then it drew even with the Packard and pulled ahead on a long, straight stretch. In the rear-view mirror David could see that the men in the cars behind had removed their hoods. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Willie squeezing his hands together, eyes closed as he moved his lips. David was determined to go as fast as necessary to prevent the cars from overtaking them. He knew, and he was sure that Willie knew, what would soon happen. The first car would pass them, then turn in front of them, and the others would form a blockade. He felt Willie plucking at his coat sleeve.
"Mr. David, Mr. Jason had a super charger installed on this car. Pretty soon, you gonna see it take off!"
Just as Willie spoke, the car lunged forward, then seemed to fly down the road. The other cars were left behind as the Packard caught up with the train, then edged ahead.
"Hold on a little bit longer, Willie. I think we're going to make it! Thank goodness, you knew about the super charger! That sure eased my mind!"
Approaching Sutton Crossing, David slowed enough to turn and cross the railroad tracks on County Road 4. In less than a minute, the train covered the crossing, its whistle blowing, and slowed for the depot just ahead, effectively blocking off their pursuers on the other side of the tracks.
"Willie, this is a long train, but it will slow down just long enough for the mail bags to be thrown on board. Be ready to jump on when that happens. Good luck!" David jerked the hand-brake and opened his door in one motion, grabbing for the suitcase.
Willie leaped from the car, ran with unaccustomed nimbleness, and jumped on. David ran along the platform track with his suitcase, throwing it to the conductor just as the train picked up speed and pulled away.
David knelt down and looked through the wheels of the speeding railcars to the road on the other side of the tracks. The radiators of all three cars were covered with chicken feathers and boiling over. By their gestures and angry faces, the men appeared unable to start their cars and were arguing among themselves. David started up the Packard and leisurely drove home by the parallel road.
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