Thank you very much for taking me for a ride on your dramatic journey. It was like i was in that city bus from the East Baltimore heading downtown on a freshy bitumized Evans Ave. in those early 50's. More than once i was thrilled on the west slope.
It was like I myself was in that bus, I felt like I had already got on the bus at that Morning Side Elementary school after a school day on that day and had seen you and your Maw Maw got on, then watched you sitting in the rear and had heared you chatting with those friendly "darked skinned". I wonder if i had "hate-stared" too, but perhaps I sat in the midst of the bus and could hear what you told about.
A story reached my ears while I sat there, the white woman told about SCHMOO a wonderful little boy who developped splendid talents in remembering difficult things with an eidetic memory, what would have astonished them and how she was proud about your grades after you returned again home, you was happy to be at home again.
How could he only remember those long chains of numbers, they asked, and then she explained to them how you converted numbers into names to memorize constantly, because she saw you doing it.
The women could have joked, "if he is a little Shmoo, perhaps he even memorizes all the names of our streets the Marion, Ramsey, Mulkey, Powell Harvey Ave. from here up till the Red Water River and Wichita Falls, someday and become president or a famous author".
You would have looked shy but you certainly have had some secrets in you like the Shmoo of the legend"
And I would have looked on my latest bad average grades and would have been envious hearing of your memorizing talents and your courage sitting there in the rear inmidst of these coloured.
Didnt one of the Shmoos grow up and become Barbapapa in the late 60's? Dont know.
But one thing is sure, we here your readers, you catched me ...
"I m a Shmoo".
