2020 Year Centennial
Celebration
Honoring The Life Of
othelia Smith Herring
December 12, 1920 - December 12, 2020
Smith/Herring/Stewart Family "Blessed Heritage" Blog
My First Best Friend...
By wallace "lil sib" sibley, jr.
It’s my privilege to take a moment to reflect on my Grandmother, Othelia Herring for her 100th Birthday Celebration this year. As her first grandchild, my memories take me back to those early childhood moments around 1968. Long before the modern days of technology with cellphones, smart tv’s, instagram and cash apps. I was around 3 years old.
Spending time with my grandma was the most exciting part of any day. 2820 Myrtle Avenue in Jacksonville, FL was the closest place to heaven I could ever imagined. Always filled with love and laughter. My aunts, Juanita, Esther, and Gwen were teenagers and living there, Juanita was at Edwards Waters College. Esther and Gwen were still at Stanton High School. Uncle Shade and Aunt Florence were celebrating the birth of their son, Norris. Uncle Robert was serving within the military. I remember my Mom, Dorothy working at the YWCA in the office. She was a secretary and did LOTS of typing. Throughout the week Grandma would get up in the early morning hours before I would wake up to go to work. I didn’t know exactly where she worked but I remembered when she would return home from work she would smell “Sweet & Tasty” like fresh donuts. I didn’t know or fully understand Dad’s (Wallace) occupation at this time. I only knew he preached at church mostly on Sundays but sometimes during the week.
This is where my story begins. On many of Dad’s preaching engagements Grandma would come and ride in the back seat on the passenger side behind Mom. I would sit next to my best friend in the back of the car behind Dad and listen to the “Grown Folks” conversations of Mom, Dad, and Grandma while the car radio played local AM stations of black gospel broadcasts like Reverend Ike inviting listeners to “Come To The Palace” while his church members gave their personal testimonies and stories. (Side Note: When I finally got the chance to see "The Palace" on 175th & Broadway in New York City as an adult it was an "eye-sore") After our drive on highways and byways that felt like hours, we would arrive at a small church that contained no air conditioning and poor electrical lighting in the Florida/Georgia summer heat. Grandma and I ALWAYS sat together at church. I knew my seat would be right next to hers. Unlike most little kids, I can remember truly enjoying singing along with my Grandma at church and playing the tambourine my parents bought me. I LOVED hearing her shout “GLORY TO GOD!!!” when she felt the Holy Spirit. I can still hear Grandma’s forceful, powerful voice just as clearly in my head like it was yesterday. I was never frightened. How I would love to imitate or reproduce her tone and texture to her powerful voice.... But sadly, I can't. After an exciting time singing the “Songs of Zion” with Grandma at church, I would make myself comfortable leaning on Grandma's fat and cushy arm until I would fall asleep within 10 minutes of my Dad’s fiery sermon.
I think Grandma noticed my love for music before anyone. Mom has shared with me when I was an infant, Grandma noticed I would pop my head up when I heard a particular catchy commercial jingle on television. Who would have thought years later I would earn my college degree in Advertising. And while interviewing with some of the world's top Advertising Agencies in New York, Ad executives were impressed with my ability to write commercial jingles. As a young boy I remember pleading with Mom asking her “Why Can’t Grandma Be My Mama?” As a little boy I couldn’t understand why this wasn’t possible when Mom, Dad, my Aunts and Uncles called my Grandma, “Mama”. I was the ONLY one that called her “Grandmama.” Mom did her best to explain and reason with a 3 year old as Grandma stayed silent but would have the biggest smile on her face. Grandma wasn’t just my “Grandmother, she was my best friend. I enjoyed our moments together in the kitchen licking the spoon or bowl as she baked sweet potato pies early Saturday mornings. Picking pecans with her in the backyard some afternoons. Or trying to have a sip of RC cola; or as she called it “soda water” before she to avoid the crumbs she would leave behind in the bottle.
Those wonderful adventures with my best friend and me catching the city buses in Jacksonville to go downtown for shopping because I knew I was going to return with a toy she bought me at “Woolworth”. Those tender moments of my youth are embedded within my memories and helped build the foundation for which I stand upon today. I’ve told many people that although I was born during the heart of the civil rights movement. Many historic events filled with violence, death, and racial tension. My “world” was filled with lots of joy and love.
Grandma’s strong sense of Faith, Honor and Purpose demanded it from her children, her family, friends and those she loved. Happy 100th Centennial Birthday Celebration Grandma!!! Thank You for your Love, Legacy and "Blessed Heritage." Love Always, lil sib
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