by Cara Charles
“No, sir. I’m sorry. I have to deliver it myself, watch what the President eats, and report back to Doctor Hubble so he can record it on the President’s chart. But thank you, kindly.”
“The Sarge snorted…”
“Well now. See here, Gal. We ain’t going to let you in to see the President. You can take that back to Doctor Hubbard. He ain’t God or in charge of the President’s security.”
“Mama felt her good luck just evaporating in the mountain air.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Guard. I can’t leave this with you. If you just could...”
“Sarge’s anger building, his patience wearing thin shouted…”
“No, I cannot! I will not leave my post to solicit the President for the likes of you. Either leave it with us, or git. That’s my final word on it. Take it or leave it.”
“Mama moved the basket off her belly to her hip. Then, that good ole boy shoved her in the belly with his rifle.”
Joseph felt a bump on his head, “hmmmm. That answers that.”
The room laughed.
“Mama said…”
“Then I’ll leave with it, but I will have to report this to Dr. Hubble who is also the cook’s doctor, that it was you Sarge, who sent away the President’s specially selected heath food, and left the President of these United States, who is not a strong man, without his second and third meal of the day, forced to eat brunt toast or worse.”
“Mama turned and walked back down the road, while the Sarge hurt himself thinking.”
For dramatic effect, the violin player underscored the phrases, reminiscent of the silent movies, making everyone laugh.
“Selected by the doctor? Oh, right. Says you…”
“The Sarge said following her. Mama kept on walking.”
“Yes, that’s right and cooked to Dr. Hubble’s specifications, to help the President’s legs get stronger, a little everyday.”
“Specifications? Another fancy word. Listen here, Gal. Unless, I hear it from the doctor’s lips himself, I ain’t going to let you in with the food. Damn tasty as it is, I have a mind just to take it from you and eat it myself. No one would be the wiser.”
“Mama picked up her pace and so did the Sarge.”
“Fine then. I don’t want no trouble, so go on now. Git. Come back only when the doctor sends a note to verify, how’s that for a word? Verifies this, this, this… what’d you call it, his specified, health food? My ass. Go on now. Peddle your papers elsewhere.”
“Mama kept walking, and praying, She needed a miracle.”
“Bobby Rae dared to laugh…”
“Don’t let her get away, Sarge! Get us another taste.”
“Sarge motioned Bobby Rae back inside the shack with his barrel.”
“I got your taste. Mind your business, B.R. or else I’ll eat it myself.”
“Sarge walked back to the shack after watching Mama continue on down the hill, her heart as heavy as her food basket, praying aloud that her luck just couldn’t be turning now and where was Mrs. Eleanor? Surely she’d heard the shot.”
“Mrs. Roosevelt had heard the shot. She’d crept closer to the gate, curiosity getting the better of her. She’d been on her way down to the gate to deliver a grocery list to the guards. The shot made her run for cover. She’d crept close enough to see Mama walk away with a heavy heart. Mama saw Jasper up ahead peeking out from behind a tree, shook her head not come any closer. Jasper was relieved, having thought the worst.”
“Guard? Guard? Come here this instant!”
“Mrs. Roosevelt demanded. Both guards jumped out of their drawers.”
“How dare you fire on that poor woman? What were you thinking? Save your bullets for your cousins, the men in the pointed white hats. Invite her in! Right this minute!”
“But, Mrs. Roosevelt. First rule to guarding the President is ‘beware of men bearing gifts.’”
“Now, young man. Guards are expected to have brains and brawn, and not chastise humble citizens bearing gifts they can little afford. Do your duty. Pat her down or whatever you need to do, check her basket, I know the food’s good, I saw you wolf it down and you’re not foaming at the mouth, yet. Well? Go get her, quickly! Before she gets away. Any fool can see she’s sincere. Even I could see that, from way over there.”
The room cheered.
“Halt! Stop right there, Gal! Get yourself back here!”
“Mama took a deep breath, turned, and smiled, having heard Mrs. Eleanor’s distinctive voice. She stood up tall, smiled her beautiful smile, and politely nodded to the gun toting guards, as she allowed them to check her basket. They kept her at a distance from Mrs. Roosevelt and the gate, in case it was a bomb and then patted her down.”
“Good God Girl! You got enough food here for a pygmy army! She’s clean, Mrs. Roosevelt. Just a basket of food.”
“He whispered to Mama as she passed…”
“We’ll settle this later.”
“At that point she got scared, fearing she was swapping one trouble for another. Thank goodness Mrs. Roosevelt saw Mama’s smile drop off her face.”
“Sergeant, I heard that! Neither you nor your hooded ‘cousins and friends’ will harass anyone of any color who comes to visit the President and myself! Is that perfectly clear? Or you’ll find yourself and anyone related to you, in hot water, out of a job and a pension. Remember young man, who has the President’s ear! I know who you are, who your relatives are, and I know where you live!”
“Sarge bowed to Mrs. Roosevelt, as Bobby Rae walked past him openly defying him to escort Mama up to Mrs. Roosevelt.”
“Yes ma’am. Meant no offense.”
“Indeed!”
“Mrs. Eleanor winked at Mama. Mama felt her heavy heart grow light as a feather.”
“This is your lucky day Miss, and thanks for the snack for my buddy and me. Anything you need, just ask me. Bobby Rae Pettigrew. I’ll be happy to oblige.”
“The Sergeant stepped in front of Bobby Rae to take Mama’s basket.”
“Thank you kindly Sarge, but if I turn loose of it, the bottom might give way and all their nice food would be on the ground at your feet and you’d be back to burnt toast for dinner.”
“The Sarge leaned in and whispered to Mama…”
“God forbid! She was going to make me, and B.R. cook for them after we got off shift, and fetch them groceries. You came just in the nick of time, little Gal. Neither of us can cook more than eggs, bacon, and grits.”
“Bobby Rae leaned in and whispered...”
“His coffee is weak, his grits are lumpy. Help us, please. We don’t want the President or the Missus to fire us just cuz we can’t cook. Hells bells. We can shoot the eye out of a blackbird from three hundred yards, but we can’t cook a lick. Please? We need this job. I’ve got a youngin on the way, too. We’d be forever in your debt, right Sarge?”
“Mama waited on the Sarge’s answer. He nodded. Mama winked at them.”
“l’ll take that forever deal, too. It’s a Deal. A New Deal.”
“Mrs. Roosevelt put her hands on her hips…”
“Be a gentleman! Carry her basket, Sergeant! Good heavens, man! Southern hospitality? That just applies to your women, I see.”
“She won’t let me, Mrs. Roosevelt. Lord knows, I’ve tried, ma’am.”
“Yes, you did. There will be no harassment of this fine young woman by you or your hooded abominations. If you want your jobs and promise of a pension, you’ll heed my words!”
“Yes ma’am. Loose lips and all that.”
“We’re in agreement then.”
“Sarge spit on his hand and offered it to Mrs. Roosevelt. Mrs. Roosevelt walked to the guards, spit on her hand, then shook their hands, sealing their deal.”
The room laughed.
“Mama said...”
“Thank you kindly Mrs. Roosevelt, ma’am. Thank you. Like I was trying to tell your very able guard, I work at the Hospital in the kitchen and heard you lost your cook. So I got excused, ran hom
e and cooked this up for you and the President, so he could keep his strength up and you wouldn’t have to do any cooking. We see the President making fine progress every day he’s at the baths and therapy. And we want to keep him strong to bring more changes to life in Warm Springs and the folks who adore and admire you both.”
“How kind and so very thoughtful dear. Your food smells absolutely wonderful too. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“Julia Mae Jackson Jefferson, ma’am.”
“And you cooked all this yourself?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“This morning, after work?”
“My friend Pimzie, known as Pamela Robins R.N., took over the kitchen this morning, so I got an early start on your meal. I knew the President has a firm dinnertime and a powerful hunger with his cook sick. Truth be told, my kitchen may not cool down ‘til next week.”
“Mrs. Roosevelt shrieked with laughter, as she looked into the basket and then into Mama’s eyes. Recognizing some of their favorites, right down to little celery sticks with cream cheese and peanuts, and smelling her favorite macaroons.”
“Do I smell fresh macaroons or is that just wishful thinking. I do love them so.”
“Mrs. Roosevelt sampled one…”
“I know these cookies. Are you the angel who bakes for Franklin?”
“Yes ma’am. You’d be correct. I know macaroons are your favorite.”
“Well, my gracious. I am so humbled by all your hard work Mrs. Jefferson. You bought these groceries out of your own money, didn’t you?”
“Well, no ma’am. All the groceries are donations, the basic food fixings themselves were donated from my friends’ gardens, like the vegetables, herbs, the eggs and hens from friends and neighbors and a quarter here, a dime there, a dollar and the opportunity from Pimzie. My contribution was, I put it all together. I didn’t want you to go hungry and I wanted to show you true Warm Springs’ hospitality from my neighborhood. Especially, during your hour of need.”
“Remarkable. Please, Mrs. Jefferson. Come and join us for luncheon, unless you have to rush home to Mr. Jefferson or back to the hospital?”
“No ma’am. My husband was lost in a railroad accident a few months ago and my friend Pimzie is covering my shift today. So, I am free this afternoon until about four p.m.”
“Mrs. Roosevelt noticed Mama’s tummy and grabbed the basket from her.”
“Oh, ma’am! The basket has a weak bottom. Macaroons weigh more than I expected.”
The room tittered.
“My Mama could make a deaf man laugh. Mrs. Eleanor laughed again.”
“Mrs. Eleanor said...”
“Good gracious! We diverted a culinary disaster. We’d better get this fine Southern cuisine onto the President’s table. He’ll be back from the Knob soon and he will love your surprise! Dear Mrs. Jefferson, all this is for us? You could feed an army.”
“Pygmy army, I’m told.”
“Bobby Rae snorted behind her. Mama burst out laughing, they joined her.”
“There’s enough there for several meals and a picnic lunch for the Knob.”
“You are so very thoughtful dear. You’re an angel of mercy. Join us as our guest so we can thank you in person with every delectable bite. It smells divine, simply divine. I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your husband and your expecting too. Will tragedies never cease?”
“Our baby is a gift and my blessing in this sad time. He or she is a living memorial to a true love. Thank you ma’am. You’re so kind. Please. Call me Julia if you prefer. I am so honored to have this opportunity to meet you, face to face.”
“Mama turned and smiled at the guards who were still sucking on the chicken bones behind Mrs. Roosevelt’s back. They nodded, and waved their bones meaning ‘um um, good.’”
“And Ma’am? There’s enough to feed your guards, if you’re so inclined.”
“I’d say that would increase their indebtedness to you.”
“I found a way into their hearts. We now have the beginnings of a forever kind of deal.”
“Mama smiled and Mrs. Roosevelt said...”
“I can see, we are two peas in a pod, when it comes to thinking of the importance of good will towards men. We can get them to do just about anything, can’t we?”
“Yes ma’am. Lots and lots of good will can work wonders.”
“So that day May 6th, 1935, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt invited my Mama in. Then asked her to stay and take supper with them. That very day Mama took over the compound kitchen of the Little White House, and had the grateful guards fetching groceries when they got off their shift. Jasper figured Mama hadn’t been arrested when he saw Mama and Mrs. Eleanor walk into the Compound. Back at Mama’s house he ate two plates of food knowing he’d better leave one for Pimzie. Then raced back up the mountain for Mama. The Roosevelts had loved Mama’s cooking and sense of humor so much, Mama never left them, except to cook supper for her friends and neighbors that night, pack up and rent out her little house to Pimzie. There was a huge send off reception at the train station from Pimzie and Mama’s friends, neighbors and staff, when Mama left with the Roosevelts. FDR moved her to the White House and kept his former cook on at the Hospital, with strict instructions to follow Mama’s recipes to the tee. The cook became Mama’s assistant when we were at Warm Springs. Sarge and Bobby Rae and the other gatekeepers would do anything for Mama, as there was always a reward for them from her kitchen. Within a week, a truckload of schoolbooks came to Mama’s church. The last of the fifty-two of the Rosenwald schools for African American students in Warm Springs which didn’t have money to finish it. Mr. Rosenwald the co-owner of Sears and Roebuck died, and his school funds dried up. Mrs. Roosevelt wrote the final $1000.00 check from her own account to get it built. The Eleanor Roosevelt School of Warm Springs, Georgia, a seven-room schoolhouse that is still standing, was a gift for Mama’s neighbors and friends. A plaque and a thank you letter to the friends and neighbors of Julia Jefferson from Mama, the President, and Mrs. Roosevelt graces the wall of honor in the school library. The rest they say is history.”
Everyone applauded.
“If Mama had had any influence on the Civil Rights of the times or the following decades or the Roosevelt administration, we’ll never know. But it is well documented since the mid thirties, Mrs. Roosevelt became quite outspoken for African-Americans beginning with the lack of medical treatment in the polio years, in spite of the President being a victim. He had kept Warm Springs segregated saying, “that was the local custom” and reports to him said, “African-Americans were not contracting the disease.” He had to answer for that “Whites only” racist admission and treatment policy in the 1936 elections. But in 1939, a generous first grant from FDR’s own polio foundation, The National Institute for Infantile Paralysis also known as The March of Dimes was given to create the Tuskegee Infantile Paralysis Centre for African-American patients and medical staff, opening in 1941 after years of pressure from African-American leaders to abolish the medical ghetto families of color had endured.”
“Mrs. Eleanor’s natural affinity for the poor and unrepresented grew into an activism that became her life’s work and burst into full bloom from that moment perhaps, because she got to know Mama and I and others very well. Eleanor Roosevelt became a champion for so many and inspired change to many things we’ve forgotten. Through her outspoken tenacity, Mrs. Roosevelt pushed the President to create the anti-lynching law, more opportunities in medicine, jobs and voting rights, abolished some of the poll tax and literacy tests. Her list of accomplishments for the underrepresented is long and miraculous. Mrs. Roosevelt was not handcuffed by appeasing the Southern politicians like her husband, and spoke out against racial injustice, often. Inviting our leaders of her day to the White House to confer with the President. She truly was his eyes and legs and the awakening of his conscience and she continued the fight to end injustice, in spite of the President’s men trying to quiet her. Mama and I were with Mrs. Roosev
elt when we lost her in 1962.”
“So when I, Joseph Roosevelt Jefferson was born with the attendance of Mama’s best friends, Nurse Michelle, Nurse Pimzie and Mrs. Roosevelt, some eighty years ago, we have been at the White House, nearly every day since the day she brought me home. And finally, this here is Pimzie’s original good luck thimble. A charm Mama carried everyday for seventy-two years and I proudly carry it today, because it has always brought us luck. If Mama was here now, she’d say, “go forth and make your mark unto the world. Good work is never done.” Our luck and good fortune has been you. Thank you all for this day and a lifetime of wonderful.”
The East Room guests jumped to their feet in a tearful standing ovation.
President Obama watched as the loving applause washed over Joseph. He walked over to the podium and embraced him.
“Thank you for this memorable day.” Joseph whispered, the words sticking in his throat.
Joseph’s eyes were filled with tears and so were the President’s. Joseph took his seat and the ovation continued. Joseph stood up again to acknowledge his admiration, he bowed and the applause thundered on. By Joseph’s urging, everyone took a seat.
The President said, “Joseph Jefferson is a man of great humility, a modest man and a thoughtful man. Today, we get to turn the tables on him and give back the love he has given this room of people, all of his life. There’s more. So Joseph enjoy, as ‘these are the days of your life.”
The lights dimmed, the screen lowered as a Ken Burns-like documentary of Joseph and all the staff he’d known, even Mama’s generation of staff, all of them with the Roosevelts and the rest, underscored Joseph’s and his mother’s long life of dedicated service to the White House and the First Families who had lived there since 1935. Seeing those old faces long gone, had brought the tears back.
Joseph thought, ‘I could die a happy man tonight if all goes well, later.’
He glanced over at the Obamas who had been watching the documentary, but felt him glance their way. Simultaneously, they smiled. Joseph nodded. Michelle reached out and squeezed his hand. He placed his other hand on hers, to make sure she knew how touched he was. They meant the world to him, like the children he never had. Perhaps the pressure of the task ahead was eroding his resolve so he looked away, the smile still on his lips as the tears streamed down his face.