Yesterday as I watched my little Annabelle dance, I was taken back in time. Back to 1962 when I too was 4 years old. It was a warm day like any other and there I was swirling around looking up at our Grandaddy oak tree... swirling and dancing. Every day about noon Daddy would come home for lunch. I would be there on the front porch steps or out in the yard, "watching for him", just like Mama told me to. As soon as he drove up, I'd run and tell Mama, "DADDY'S HOME"....
Daddy worked for the road department and he worked with prisoners. He started bring home a prisoner with him. This man was tall and thin and his skin was black and he wore a great big smile. I can't remember his name, but I'll never forget him. The first thing he said to me was "You wanna learn to dance?"... I do, I said. As my Daddy went in to eat lunch, this skinny young black man taught me to tap dance. I can still his voice... da da da da da da da da ....he would get on the steps of the porch so I could her the 1234 1234 1234 coming from his feet... then he would throw down... that's what he called it... he would throw down his arm toward me with his palm down as if to say... your turn! Oh, what fun we had. My Daddy would say... "Would you look at that!", as he watched our "Throw down" routine. I remember the wink my new friend would give me as he said goodbye each day... "I'll sees ya tamara", he'd say. I remember my Daddy saying "Pappy, ( short for Papoose)... come here and give your Daddy a hug"... he would pick me up and twirl me around underneath that big oak tree. Most of all I remember feeling safe in his arms. I can still smell the old spice cologne and the Winston Cigarettes that he kept in his left pocket and I can see him limping walking to his car... I see him waving goodbye, just like it was yesterday.... and this memory was all prompted by hearing ... Wanna watch me dance?
Thank you Annabelle!
