Aunt Juanita Bruce

She was grandma's older sister. I called her Amanita. She was born and raised in Washington, D.C. Grandma once described her as the "party" sister or at least the more adventurous one. She hit all of the hot spots as a young woman in DC during the 1940’s. Her favorite hang out spots were places like, The Howard Theater and bars like The Casbah on U Street. She would outgrow the DC scene and move to Chicago sometime in the 1950’s. She lived on the South Side of Chicago for almost 20 years before moving back to DC in the late 60’s. By the time I came along, Amanita had lived most of her life. She settled down into an apartment on E street in Northeast DC. In fact, her apartment was right across the hall from my grandmother’s place.

Amanita would get me dressed every morning for school when I began kindergarten at Gibbs Elementary in 1972. She would fuss and tug as she tried to get me ready for school in the morning. I would always asked her for some pickles because I could smell them on her breath early in the morning. She would fuss and tell me that she didn’t have any pickles as she put on my jacket to walk me down the street to school. I always wondered why she wouldn’t let me have any pickles?

Eventually, I became old enough to walk to school by myself and Amanita would be on the front stoop everyday when I came home. She would be fussing about something because she was always fussing. Maybe my shirt wasn’t tucked in or I had dirt on my face from recess. She always had a ready thumb full of pickled saliva to wipe away any evidence of dirt. I didn't like that.

In 1979, I was sent to North Carolina for school. I was 12 years old and I only came home to DC during the summer months. Surprisingly, I missed Amanita and all her fussing. I would always go by to see her whenever I came home. She would give me that big, wet auntie kiss and we would catch up on what’s been going on. Well, years passed and Amanita died in 1984 when I was in the 11th grade. For some reason, I wasn’t able to attend her funeral? It took me a week to actually mourn her death. It was one day after school that I began to cry while doing my homework at the dinner table. It was then that I realized how much I loved my Amanita.

In the end, I found out that Amanita’s name was really Juanita. When I was a child I called her exactly what the other children called her, which was "Ama-nita" or "Ama-needa." Now, I realize that they were combining the words Aunt + Juanita = Amaneeda. I also found out that she didn’t eat pickles at all. Aunt Juanita liked her Gin. God bless Amanita.

My Enslaved Past

In honor of Black History Month I wanted to post a little note that I left on the Roberson Family guestbook. The Roberson family owned my ancestors who were slaves on the Cross Roads Plantation in Martin County, North Carolina. This fact is known because my family never left that region after slavery and still reside there today. As a matter of fact, my grandmother was raised on the same plantation her grandfather worked as a slave. Her great uncle is the late Rev., William Drew Robeson, who is the father of actor, activist, and singer, the late Paul Robeson. This is a part of my history that I continue to study and I am finding out more and more as time goes on. I hope that you will find this as interesting as I did. I wasn't angry at them for their part in history. I just wanted them to know the names of those people who were affected/infected by their part in history.The note:Stephen Bess
Tuesday, 12/23/03, 8:07 AM

Happy holidays!! I am a descendant of Ezekiel Roberson who was a slave on the Cross Roads plantation. I feel that your website is really important because it gives me a sense of connection to my ancestors in Martin County, NC. I am fortunate because there are many African Americans in this country who have no idea what land their ancestors worked and tilled. My grandmother, Eunice Roberson Best grew up in Robersonville and she taught me all that I know about that area and our family. She joined our ancestors in April of 1999. Her memory will live on forever along with the memory of those who preceded her.

From:
Washington, D.C.
P.S. By the way, a member of the Roberson family did contact me and thanked me for leaving that note. He is a business man in the Raleigh Durham area. He also encouraged me to continue my research. I thanked him.

click the post title for a link to the Roberson Family website