Robert L.W Gant's Books

Black ideology and black political thoughts were a direct out-growth from the civil rights movement and struggle during the early 60’s. In 1963 I was invited into the civil rights movement by Dick Gregory. At this time I was living on the westside of Chicago. I was born in Augusta, GA. and raised by my grand-parents. “Rawbean! Rawbean! It’s time to get up boy!”, my grandmother yelled (Mrs. Annie Gant). It was 5:00 a.m. and still dark outside and I was still asleep. I could barely hear her yelling. At first I just laid there not fully aware of life and then my nose alerted my taste buds that it must be breakfast time. As the smell of fresh bacon and hot homemade biscuits perfumed the air in my bedroom, again my grandmother called. “Rawbean if you haven’t gotten up and in here in one minute I’m gonna come and get you and you ain’t gonna like it.” I got up and immediately began my morning chores because I knew what grandmother meant and I sure wasn’t in the mood for that especially so early in the morning. When I finally arrived to the kitchen table my grand-dad and my cousins James and Francis were already tasting breakfast. The thought made my mouth water something awful. Our kitchen was like any other country style kitchen of the 30’s for a poor black family. We had a wood burning stove that was in fairly good shape. An ice-box which wasn’t electric but rather one which held a solid block of ice with compartments for food. We had a solid oak kitchen table with six chairs and the kitchen was beautifully decorated with what was not of my grandmother’s choosing. My grandmother was a beautiful African lady! And my grand-dad was Indian. They were a very beautiful couple. They had eight children and my mother was the baby and very spoiled and very beautiful. She was what every one called a Georgia peach. My dad was a Williams and the Williams family was an upper middle class family. My dad worked for one of Augusta’s leading brick companies and operated his own business a fruit and vegetable stand. The weekend was upon us and everyone was busy getting things ready for Sunday. There appears to be something big going on at our family church. I noticed my grandmother taking out my Sunday-best. “Grandmother am I goin’ to church with you!?” “No Rawbean. Come here baby. I’m going to try to explain this to you the best way that I can. Rawbean your grand-dad isn’t your real dad.” “He’s not.” “No, your real dad name is Albert Williams and he would like to see you. Your step-dad will be by later to visit with you and I’m going to dress you now and please don’t get your clothing dirty!” I had never seen my real dad or my step-dad. All of this was new and exciting! Also very sad, because, in my mind grand-dad was my real father. Grandfather and I worked together, played together: He was my best friend and there was nothin’ that could come between us. However, I was thrilled to meet my real father. That afternoon my step-dad arrived on time and my grandmother invited him in. He was tall, dark and handsome with alikeable personality. My mother had remained at their apartment with two brothers and a sister whom I had never seen before; William Jr., Daniel and Flora Bell. I was really thrilled! To know I had brothers and sisters to play with. It was truly a beautiful day. Mr. Johnson introduced himself to me and said, “Robert I’m a friend to your dad and he asked me if I would bring you out to his home to visit him. Would you like to go visit with him?” “Yes!!” My grandmother kissed me and said for me to hurry back. “Mr. Johnson, please take care of the baby!” I had no idea how far my dad really lived. However, once on the outside there was a beautiful automobile awaiting us. My step-dad picked me up and sat me inside. I was thrilled! Mr. Johnson started the motor and began to pull off. I looked back to see grandmother standing in the doorway with a v-e-r-y serious look on her face. It was a very lovely Sunday afternoon. On our way to visit wit

Book's by Robert L.W Gant

strugglin'

strugglin'

A Concordance to the Poems of John Keats

A Concordance to the Poems of John Keats

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