Aunt ''T'' and the Halloween Baby

My Aunt T was such a remarkable woman. I wanted others to know about her. That's why I wrote this story. She died in 2002. She was one hundred two years old. Anyone who knew her only had the most wonderful comments about her and knew me as her baby.

Aunt T is at the center of this story, spanning three generations of women who endured abuse, humiliation, and heartaches from an abusive father. This story will shed light on the reprehensible side of African-American life in a small southern town and a nurturing and supportive woman who always thought of others first.

Aunt T had a rare talent for dressmaking without any formal training. She made clothes from patterns she cut from newspapers. She was always well dressed and taught me to sew at five years old.