Check out this great song written by my Nephew Nathan Culpepper "My City" about Thomson, Ga T-Town ....I LOVE MY CITY...Especially 808 "C" Street...in the Old Projects
I was born on August 2, 1959, a Sunday morning, around 7 o'clock am, a healthy 7 pounder, the sixth of seven children that Mary Esther bore. My grandmother lived on a farm which I never knew wasn’t hers until years later. I would say to myself so nice of my grandmother to give those white people food during harvest and animal slaughter time. My first memory of my mother came in March of 1963, when she brought my little brother, Barry, to Bigma’s house. All my siblings and cousins were ragging me because I wasn’t going to be the baby any more. We went to live with a man named Dan Scott, a man Mom had met and had my little brother by. We stayed with him for four years, if not more. I remember escaping from "Camp Dan Scott'' in July of 1968. We were back on the farm. We heard about the government housing projects in the city. Green grass, central heating, plumbing and roaches. The things I heard, saw and did in those ten years would be amazing to some people and downright unbelievable to most. The things I learned, including survival, I learned from an early age. My older brother and middle sister taught me a lot about my mom.
Bae Ruth and Momma left after talking to my aunt Joyce. I'm thinking, they’re going to pick her up and actually go to this woman’s house, they are some bad motor scooters. We got ready to watch American BandStand. This was a few years beforeSoul Train. We went back outside to play and watch for Momma, Bae Ruth and my aunt Joyce to show up. They put my aunt Joyce out of the car somewhere up the street and they drove on to our house and walked down the hill to get there by the time my aunt Joyce got to the neighbors house. Aunt Joyce knocked on the door and asked Earl to come outside. Well, he didn’t know Momma and Bae Ruth were outside, out of sight. When he started to talk trash to my aunt Joyce, Bae Ruth and Momma went into the Bush’s house and pulled my uncle Earl out and put a whooping on him.
Rontee can be mean as a snake if you cross her. She talks in her fast "Geechee'' language that only she can understand. I had the love of my life, "The Blue Goat," a 1968 Pontiac GTO, which I had a special custom blue color mixed and made especially for me. I bought a lot of accessories for my car and left it in my sister’s care while my senior class went to Washington, D.C. for the week. I just knew when I came back I would have a shining new car with that brand new custom paint job. To my surprise, on the way back to the high school after the trip, the bus driver drove down Cobbham Road, where the Jackson Speed and Body shop was at the time. My car was there for repair.
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